A Likely Story
by Daintress
Summary: “It is no longer necessary for me to coddle the progeny of my former associates. Nor is the Dark Lord any longer in control of with whom I spend my time.” AU.
1. Intro

**A Likely Story**

Premise: Most of the Severus / Hermione stories out there rely on:

1. Outwitting Dumbledore and sneaking around the castle to have sex while she's still a student.  
or  
2. Going back in time and outwitting a younger Dumbledore and sneaking around the castle to have sex while they're both still students.  
or  
3. Mysteriously, or by means of an outrageous law, getting PERMISSION from Dumbledore to get married, whether or not they care to have sex, while she's still a student.

None of these options seem at all likely to me. What I'm going for here is realism. So here it is:  
A Likely Story.

**PS. I am not repeat: I AM NOT saying that those stories aren't good. I've been enjoying them immensely, as well as the ones based on the idea that they are both Professors, and others that take place later in their lives. I've read a lot of great stories on this site, and even though this little one-shot has nothing to do with my marathon story over on I wanted to make a contribution.**

* * *

"Miss Granger? A moment please." Snape's clipped tone left no room for argument, and Hermione shrugged at her friends as they gathered their books. Any relief she'd felt about the end of her last potions lesson at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was instantly overshadowed by the dark man behind the desk. Yes, he'd been far less biased of late, but his classroom standards had remained high. The only difference she'd seen was that Crabbe and Goyle now lost their house as many points as Neville lost for Gryffindor. A small victory, but a victory nevertheless.

When the door closed behind Harry and Ron, she swung her bag over her shoulder and approached Professor Snape's desk. He was unhurriedly grading a paper, and after an uncomfortable minute of silence, she realized that it was her own. She watched his lips curl up into a sneer as he finished the final paragraph, which was nearly a foot long all by itself. He scrawled a messy 98 on the top, and she couldn't stop her face from registering annoyance. Unfortunately it was at that moment that he chose to look up.

"Even now you force me to spend twice as much time reading your work as anyone else's," he commented by way of explanation. His tone was a bit less acidic than she expected. In fact, what she'd thought was his trademark sneer looked suspiciously less cruel than she recalled. He handed her the paper.

Knowing better than to question his grade, she stashed it in her bag without comment. "Thank you, Professor," she said tightly. She was about to make her way to the door when he stood, effectively recapturing her attention.

"You are aware, Miss Granger, that my time playing spy is at an end?" he asked quietly. She tilted her head in question. When she'd last been to Order Headquarters for Easter holiday that had not been the case.

"No, Sir, I wasn't." When he didn't speak, she continued. "Though we did wonder why you were suddenly so - " she stopped abruptly, realizing that to finish the sentence she would have to say something offensive.

"Fair?" he suggested, his dark eyes narrowing. Hermione looked to the floor, unwilling to admit that he'd correctly guessed her thought. She missed the humorless smile that crossed his lips briefly before he continued. "It is no longer necessary for me to coddle the progeny of my former associates. Nor is the Dark Lord any longer in control of with whom I spend my time." She looked up again, confusion in her eyes, to see a calculating expression on his face. She recognized that look. It was the one he'd worn as he grilled Harry on the very first day of classes when they were 11 years old. It was the look that said, 'I know something you don't know, and you won't figure it out unless I tell you.' And without any input from her brain, her face took on the look it had had that long ago day as well: Disapproval.

In response an unidentifiable something flickered behind his eyes. It looked almost like defeat. But whatever it was, she saw it for only an instant and it was gone again. Still, it was enough to make her rethink her expression.

"How did they find you out?" she asked quietly. It wasn't the sort of question she would normally have felt comfortable asking him. He'd always been distinctly unapproachable. At least until today.

Professor Snape chose not to respond at first, raising an eyebrow at her audacity. A moment before, he'd been sure that she was disinclined to even hear him out. Now she appeared to be engaging him in conversation. He looked away from her eyes, tidying the stack of parchments on his desk. Finally he said, "That was the last of your papers that I needed to grade," then, so softly that she couldn't be sure she was meant to hear, "You are no longer my student."

When he met her eyes again, she was still gazing at him blankly. Minerva had warned him that that might be the case. Pansy Parkinson (not that it mattered) would have known when he graded her paper why she was being detained. Even Millicent Bulstrode would probably have figured it out after that last comment. He suppressed a weary sigh. Gryffindors were notoriously lacking in subtlety.

"Professor I – " she began, but stopped abruptly when she realized he was already speaking.

"What are your plans after tomorrow's graduation ceremony?" he asked, disregarding her words entirely.

Hermione forced a blush away before it could begin. It wasn't that she failed to understand his implications, only that they were patently unbelievable. "Harry, Ron and I have taken a flat in London for the summer. I'll stay there until I begin University in the fall," she answered.

"Geneva, I assume?" Of course, he knew she'd be attending there. It was the best Magical University in Europe, and he'd written the glowing recommendation (suitable backhanded compliments aside) to their Potions Master himself. Thankfully Warrington was an old Slytherin alumni, and had easily recognized the truth in spite of the derogatory way in which it had been presented.

Hermione nodded, her mind racing backward in time, looking for the warnings of this event that she knew she must have overlooked. Snatches of conversations at Grimmauld Place rushed through her head, nearly audible:

_  
"…went to set the wards on her parents' house himself…" _

"Severus offered to tail them in Diagon Alley, just in case…"

"I have already written it, Headmaster," this last accompanied by a smirk at Professor McGonagall, and a dismissive wave of his hand. "Warrington will not mistake my meaning."

Hermione remembered how her Transfiguration Professor had bristled at this comment. Indeed, Hermione herself had stood in the kitchen doorway, irate, at the thought that Professor Snape had sent a poor recommendation of her to the University she so wished to attend. She'd been nothing short of shocked when her acceptance letter had arrived, accompanied by a full scholarship. She'd even sent him an owl to thank him for whatever he'd written.

"Professor Warrington will be lecturing at the Geneva Potions Masters' Convention next Tuesday," Severus said, breaking into her thoughts. His voice still held a standoffish quality. He, too, was thinking back to the last holiday at Grimmauld Place, even as he studied her expression:

_  
"If the house is still standing, there are some things I would like to collect." That had been her first reaction to her parents' deaths, and he still felt pride at the restraint she'd shown. So unexpectedly mature. Certainly she'd cried later, he wouldn't begrudge her that. But she'd thought first of what was necessary. And so to his long hidden respect for her intelligence he was forced to add a somewhat less grudging respect for her self-control as well. _

"Harry, will you come off it! Yes, he set the wards, and no, he couldn't prevent it. That doesn't mean he's a traitor. It only means he isn't infallible. Surely he's risked his own life for ours enough times to have earned your trust by now!" This he'd overheard returning from his very last Death Eater gathering. He'd been surprised to learn that she didn't blame him for her recent losses. Certainly he blamed himself. His guilt had led him to try and help the Grangers. It was that failed attempt that had given him away. He'd only just made it back to Headquarters with his life.

"I was wondering if you might accompany me?" He had watched her expression carefully, and chose to speak only after it had shifted into a look of cautious acceptance. The years of studying students' faces for dishonesty were finally paying off. Her Gryffindor expressiveness didn't hurt either. As a hint of a smile began on her lips he added, "The lecture begins at eight, but I understand there are several excellent restaurants in the area. Perhaps we can meet at six o'clock?"

Finally Hermione answered. "I think I would like that, Professor." This statement was answered swiftly by the dismissive gesture she'd grown to expect from him when he was impatient.

"Severus. I am no longer your professor."

Hermione allowed herself a smile, then. She doubted very much that Harry and Ron would receive a similar concession. A sudden thought struck her, however, that wiped away her grin. What would Professor Dumbledore think of all this? In a very unexpected moment of clarity, she realized that she didn't want to do anything that would cause her now former Potions Master difficulty. For an even briefer moment, she wondered what her sudden caring meant.

"Albus suggested you might enjoy Le Restaurant Alain Lavergnat?" Severus asked smoothly, anticipating her concern. She saw the look of triumph in his eyes and was tempted for just a moment to pretend that hadn't answered all her concerns.

"That would be wonderful," she answered finally, smiling again. She held his eyes for a moment, matching his pleased expression. Then he resumed his chair abruptly.

"Until Tuesday, then?" She recognized his tone of dismissal, but there was a warm undertone to it that she'd never heard before.

"Until Tuesday," she agreed. She didn't look back as she left the dungeons to join Harry and Ron for lunch, unwilling to show him the wide grin that now graced her face.


	2. Ch 1

**Chapter 1 of A Likely Story**

Hermione screamed as an exceedingly heavy box of books flew through the air toward her. She threw her arms up to protect her face.

"Impedimenta!" The books stopped in midair and dropped heavily to the floor, pages creasing and spines warping as they piled on top of one another. Ron Weasley, wand in hand, exchanged a glance with Hermione before going to help his best mate up off the ground.

"Harry, really, one box at a time!" Hermione huffed as she dropped to her knees and began righting her books. "You should have just let me do it myself!" Harry fell inelegantly onto the couch, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. His ankle was throbbing, not that anyone seemed to care. He'd only been trying to help.

Hermione seemed to sense that now was not the time for bossiness, and left her books to perform a healing charm on his ankle. "Better?" she asked, kneeling in front of him, a hand on his knee. He nodded, smiling.

Taking a flat together in London had been Ron's idea. Hermione, tossing her books haphazardly onto the shelves, smiled to herself as she remembered. Molly had been scandalized at the very thought.

"Oh, come on, Mum! Hermione's like a sister, it'd be no different than living with Ginny!"

Hermione could admit that the comment had rankled with her at first. Then again, considering how Ron had shown affection when he WAS crushing on her, she'd quickly decided that he made a much better friend than a boyfriend. Harry had remained silent throughout the battle, and in the end Molly had given in, mostly because she knew she had no choice. Ron wasn't a child any more, after all.

"Er – Hermione? Since when do you put your Potions books and the cookbook Mrs. Weasley gave you on the same shelf?" Harry asked quietly. They'd spent most of Sunday warding the apartment, and all of Monday buying furniture, arranging it, putting clothes into it, and making beds. Today, having gotten to bed late, they were finishing their unpacking, and Hermione had left the books for last. Unfortunately it was 3pm, and she was starting to feel a little rushed. Professor Snape hadn't indicated exactly where they were to meet at 6:00, and she wasn't sure how long she'd need to get ready. Maybe she could floo Molly and get a good charm so she wouldn't have to iron what she wanted to wear.

"Oh, I'll rearrange them tomorrow," she said distractedly. Harry was still seated on the couch behind her.

"Plans tonight?" he asked. Ron arrived with another box of books, having just apparated from his parents' house, where she'd been storing all her things.

"This is the last of them," he stated, putting the box down at her feet.

She grinned at him. "Thanks."

"Sure, he gets thanks and I only get scolded," Harry grumbled good-naturedly.

"Well, Ron didn't try to brain me with them!" Hermione said. They all laughed. When the books were on the shelves, and they'd banished the boxes, Hermione turned to Ron. "Can you watch Crooks for me tonight?"

"Sure, where're you headed?" he answered. Harry looked up interestedly. Hadn't he asked her about that earlier and she'd not answered? Hermione looked suddenly agitated, and didn't answer. At that moment, a sleek black owl arrived on the windowsill. Harry, testing his ankle and finding it sound, went to retrieve an ornate envelope.

Ron ventured into the kitchen for a butterbeer, but came back empty-handed when he heard Harry yelp, then swear. "What is it, mate?"

"Bloody owl bit me!" Harry exclaimed, his finger in his mouth. The owl ruffled its feathers haughtily before flapping over to Hermione and landing on her shoulder. Naturally she knew whom the letter must be from and she was laughing silently. She untied the envelope and told the owl that Ron would give it a treat in the kitchen. They were all surprised when the bird flew to Ron and accepted an owl treat docilely before heading back out into the sunshine. Hermione was still laughing, as she read the letter.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked, finally parking himself on the couch with his butterbeer.

"Professor Snape," she answered simply, ignoring their raised eyebrows. "He'll be here at 5:30, which only gives me about – "

"He'll be HERE?" Ron said, a look of disbelief on his face. "Why?"

Harry was chuckling. "I'd like to see him get through the wards," he commented dryly. Dumbledore had taught Harry a large number of wards, and even with them the Order was still keeping an eye on the place. Truth be known, though, it would take a rather proficient wizard to break any ward cast by Harry Potter. Now that he was of age, and the full extent of his magical abilities was known, even Dumbledore couldn't justify being so overprotective anymore.

Hermione fixed him with an even gaze, the shadow of a smirk gracing her lips. "You'll have to let him through, then, won't you?" With that she tucked the letter into her robe pocket and headed to the fireplace. After a quick conversation with Molly, she secluded herself in her room to get ready. She hadn't really thought much about what the boys were going to say about all this, she'd been too busy trying to decide what SHE thought about it.

Professor Snape had never been exactly polite, and that was putting it mildly. Obviously she was flattered that he'd consider taking her to the Potions Masters' Convention. But as she'd thought about it the last few days, she realized that she hadn't accepted just because she was flattered. In spite of his usually unpleasant demeanor, Hermione had learned the hard way that he was impeccably trustworthy, undeniably brave, and, perhaps most important to her, indisputably brilliant.

She'd been impressed when, after his discovery as a spy, he hadn't simply retired from the Order. Instead, he'd carried on much as other members had done. Now he could openly question the members of Slytherin house, trying to help them overcome their parents' and peers' expectations. Now he could join Remus, Arthur, and Kingsley on the various assignments they'd been given. Now he could openly protect muggleborns' families as he hadn't been able to protect hers.

She sank down onto the bed morosely, her favorite skirt wringing in her hands. That line of thought wasn't going to get her anywhere, and certainly it wouldn't get her through the convention tonight. She threw the material from her just as Ron knocked at her door. "Come in," she mumbled. Apparently he'd been elected to find out just what was going on. He entered cautiously, until he saw that she was crying. Then he crossed the room in two strides and pulled her up into a hug.

When she finally fell silent, he let her go. "Alright, then?" he asked gently. She nodded, wiping her eyes. Instantly his boyish grin was back. "Now, why am I watching Crookshanks so that you can go out with Professor Snape?" He'd meant it to be a joke, but since it was a correct assessment of the situation it didn't come off as being very funny. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"He offered to take me to the Potions Masters' Convention in Geneva to hear my new professor speak tonight," she said shyly.

Ron regarded her silently for a moment. "You're kidding," he said seriously. She shook her head. "And you said yes?" She nodded. "So this is a – "

"Date," she finished for him, nodding again, but avoiding his eyes. "I think so, at least." There was another moment of silence, and then Ron started to laugh. "What is so funny?" she demanded, trying and failing to sound angry.

Harry had come to the doorway and was watching mirthlessly as Ron laughed. "What's up?" he asked, taking in the sight of Hermione's tear-streaked face and the skirt that was now hanging haphazardly from her mirror. Ron, realizing that Harry might not think this was nearly as funny as he did, sobered up quickly. With a quick glance at Hermione, he pointed to the skirt. "She was going to wear THAT to a Potions' Masters' Convention," he said with feeling.

"Ron, you've been hanging out with Finnegan too long," Harry said, shaking his head. "How would YOU know what she ought to wear?"

"Yes, Ronnekins, how would you know?" Hermione echoed sweetly. "Now, both of you kindly leave my room so I can change." Her clock showed that it was already 4:00. She'd wasted a lot of time on tears. "I've only got an hour and a half left, and now I have to pick something to wear that Ron won't laugh at!" She exclaimed, making both boys laugh. She locked the door behind them and took a deep breath, then opened it back up. "Ron? What do you suggest?" she asked timidly.

Harry shook his head as the two of them disappeared back into her room. He pulled out a frozen pizza and popped it in the oven, glad that they'd rented in muggle London, since he didn't know how to cook with a wand. Ron appeared 15 minutes later, shaking his head. "She has no idea," he commented. Harry plopped into a chair at the kitchen table and summoned a butterbeer.

"What do you mean?"

Ron eyed him warily. Early in sixth year the two boys had sat down and talked about Hermione. They'd agreed that neither of them ought to pursue her, for the sake of their own friendship as well as their relationships with her. For Ron it had been easy to agree to. After all, he'd kissed her that summer, and it really _had _been just like kissing Ginny. Gross beyond measure. They'd just been friends too long. But Ron had always thought that maybe Harry was giving up a bit more than he was with that agreement. "I mean that she's never been to one of these conventions, and she doesn't realize that the lecture is going to be half an hour long, tops. Then there'll be a bit of dancing. She probably won't be home until 2:00!"

"I hardly think Professor Snape will want to stay for the dancing," Harry said, making a face.

"Well, he's taking her to dinner before hand. I think if he really wants to make a night of it –"

"WHAT?"

The oven beeped to inform them that Harry's pizza was done, and Ron calmly levitated it out of the oven and onto a cooling rack that Hermione had insisted they purchase to protect the counter. Harry was glaring at him as though this was somehow his fault.

"Well, we couldn't keep her all to ourselves forever," he said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

Thirty seconds later the door to Harry's bedroom slammed impressively and Hermione, dressed, but with her hair still loose around her shoulders, came into the kitchen. She seemed entirely unperturbed by Harry's response. "Can you help me with this?" The zipper on the back of her dress was only halfway up her back. He zipped it without comment as she held her hair out of the way. "Thanks."

She disappeared back into her room. Ron took two slices of pizza and apparated upstairs to the loft bedroom, which he'd claimed by right of being eldest (by a whole two months).

As a result, there was no one present at 5:29pm when Severus Snape apparated into the living room. A hideous shriek erupted from the wards and Ron was downstairs an instant later, wand in hand. Hermione, too, appeared, battle-ready, with a fierce look in her eyes. She laughed a little when she realized what had happened. Severus, however, did not look amused.

"These are your wards?" he asked disdainfully as Ron headed off to convince Harry to reset them. The shrieking fell to silence, but neither boy reappeared.

"Well, we certainly have something to discuss over dinner," Hermione said dryly.

"It might be wise if we discussed it now. It would be irresponsible of me to leave Mr. Potter here without your protection and with only these wards." It was a backhanded compliment to be sure, and he watched her face carefully to see if she would recognize it. It appeared that she did, but the insult to Harry kept her from smiling. He nearly winced at the glance she threw him, realizing that he would have to refrain from derogatory comments about her friends if he wished to get a smile out of her this evening.

Hermione, for her part, swiftly remembered that she had mascara on only one set of eyelashes and no shoes. She excused herself and quickly finished dressing. When she reappeared, Severus was talking quietly with Ron. She watched him show her friend a wand movement.

"Should I have Harry cast it?" Ron asked dubiously. Dumbledore had always said that the most powerful wizard available should cast warding spells, they lasted longer that way.

"One day, Mr. Weasley, you will need to admit to yourself that what you lack is confidence, not ability. I should have thought your experience with Quidditch would have taught you that," Severus replied scathingly.

Ron was just about to open his mouth with an angry retort when Hermione broke in. "I've been trying to tell him the same thing for years, though there are better ways to phrase it. I take it you can handle the wards, then, Ron? We should go."

Ron closed his mouth with a snap, and Hermione could almost see his brain processing the words that had been said, rather than just reacting to the derogatory tone of voice, as he'd been about to do. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Go. Have fun." Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek. A moment later she and the Professor disappeared with a resounding CRACK.


	3. Ch 2

**Chapter 2 of A Likely Story**

If he registered the rebuke in her statement, Severus didn't show it as he took her hand and led her into the restaurant, giving his name to the host. They waited in silence until they were led to a table. When they'd ordered, Hermione finally spoke. "You must realize that Harry took down most of the wards before you arrived. He only left up the noisy, embarrassing one." Hermione didn't meet his eyes. Surely he'd known that.

"The thought did occur to me, however the spell I showed Weasley was not one that Professor Dumbledore would have taught to Potter," he answered stiffly. Naturally this would spur an outbreak of questions, and he was prepared for them. To his surprise they never came. Their meals had arrived by the time Hermione spoke again, this time looking at him intently.

"And did you use this ward on my parents' house?" Hermione's tone was clipped, though she tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. What had she been thinking, agreeing to come here with this man? Yes, he was admirable, she'd known that since second year, but that didn't mean she ADMIRED him. Did it?

After the declaration of trust he'd unwittingly overheard at headquarters during Easter Holiday this was the last question he'd expected, and he nearly choked. He forced himself to swallow decorously and put down his fork. He met her eyes without flinching. "No, I did not."

She nodded once, and looked back down at her plate. Several more minutes passed in silence. Then Severus took a deep breath and began, for only the second time in his life, to 'explain himself.'

"It's called the Nephelme Ward," he started. He paused as she drew a quick breath and gazed at him, her dinner forgotten. Obviously she'd heard of it. He suppressed a wry smile, supposing that she'd read about it during one of her illegal forays into the Restricted Section. "It is not technically Dark Magic, though it does involve blood." He held up his hand, palm outward, and she could see the cut he'd made earlier, still knitting together slowly with a healing spell. He recalled with a smirk how Ron had looked queasy as he dripped the blood into a vial and handed it to him. "Dumbledore thought it best that I not use it on your parents' home because the Dark Lord would have been able to recognize that I'd cast it." There was more, but he was sure her quick mind had already pieced together what he'd told her with whatever she'd read.

Hermione had closed her eyes, and there was a self-deprecating smile on her face. Of course he couldn't have cast it for her parents – the caster had to know who was safe to let into the home and who wasn't. The ward took instructions directly from the minds of those who'd given blood for the incantation. If Ron cast it now with his own blood as well as Severus' they would be protected very well, she knew. But she could have cast it for her parents. Why hadn't she remembered that ward when Dumbledore was suggesting what to use?

The thought of Dumbledore caused her eyes to fly open, and she shook her head. "That's why he never gave you the Dark Arts position, then," she said suddenly, "because you don't agree on what's Dark Magic and what's not." He met her eyes and raised a brow, nearly smirking.

"I'd pay a lot of money to find out which of my colleagues leaked that information to the student body," he replied dryly. Hesitatingly, Hermione smiled in response, and though it was an effort, he let his smirk relax into something of a smile as well. The shock in her eyes was enough to keep the smile in place, and they looked into one another's eyes for a moment. They finished dinner in silence. Severus spent the time wondering if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. With all the negative history between them, how was he to go about convincing her that he cared about her at all?

Hermione spent the time planning what she was going to say to Harry when she arrived home. She couldn't really scold him, as he'd dropped the wards as she'd asked him to. He'd only say that he'd forgotten one. Sirius' death had changed Harry, and she hesitated to upset him. Still, he'd been sullen for two years now, and really she'd had about enough. His irrational dislike of Severus was becoming disruptive to Order business as well. Yes, Snape had goaded Sirius about being useless just before the debacle at the Ministry. But Sirius had taunted him as well. It seemed it was just the nature of their relationship. That didn't mean that Sirius' death was somehow Severus' fault. Nevertheless, that is exactly how Harry saw it.

Dinner over, they made their way to the convention hall. Hermione shook her head silently when she realized her own disappointment. Severus hadn't taken her hand this time. Then she blinked twice and reminded herself that she was a Gryffindor before slipping her hand into his.

Not letting his footsteps falter, Severus looked over at her when he felt her hand on his. Perhaps dinner had gone better than he'd given himself credit for?

They arrived nearly half an hour early, as had been his plan, and he led her through a maze of corridors before knocking loudly on an unmarked door to which she was certain she would never be able to find her way again. "You'll get used to it," he offered, noticing her bemused expression.

"Did you attend here, then?" she asked as he rapped on the door again, even more loudly. He didn't answer.

"Deaf old bugger," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the door. After another moment the door swung open, and a rather fat, whiskery old man chuckled and offered him a hand to shake.

"SEVERUS, OLD BOY! DIDN'T BELIEVE WARRINGTON WHEN HE SAID YOU'D BE COMING!" Severus winced as Hermione grinned widely. It was not the sort of situation that suited her date's usual demeanor.

"Hello Averbeck," he replied, nearly as loudly. "Where's the old snake preening? I have someone I'd like him to meet." After he'd repeated his request twice more, Severus and Hermione were led through to a smaller room where a very old wizard was looking disparagingly at his own reflection.

As they approached he gestured toward the mirror. "Depressing as all hell," he remarked, ignoring the mirror's rude comment. ('You're telling me!')

"You'll always have your cover of Witch Weekly to keep you company in your dotage, you old snake," Severus responded. Hermione looked up at him questioningly. The tone of his voice was just as cutting as if he were talking to Neville in Potions class, but the old wizard only laughed. Apparently Slytherins didn't take offense at such things between themselves. She shook her head as Severus strode forward and grasped the outstretched hand warmly. Averbeck made himself scarce as Severus introduced Hermione to Professor Warrington.

"So you're the one Severus made such a fuss over. Haven't had a recommendation letter from him in years. Didn't mention you were a Gryffindor in the letter." Warrington cast Severus a disdainful look, getting only a smirk in reply.

Hermione shook his hand, and decided that Gryffindor bravery had served her well enough so far tonight, she might as well put it to the test. "Would it have made a difference?" she asked impertinently. Severus closed his eyes and bit back a chuckle. She may have grown up while he wasn't looking, but this aspect of her personality would never change. She was just like Minerva – consequences be damned, she was going to speak her mind.

"Course it would, my girl! I'd have written to warn you to keep clear of this old bat!"

Hermione blinked twice, then covered her mouth politely, trying to fight back her laughter. She looked at Severus sideways and noticed that he was glaring at Warrington, and a peal of laughter escaped her. "I've got to admit that a little advance warning would have made things less confusing," she said, mastering herself finally.

Severus narrowed his eyes in her direction, but she only smiled back at him. He hadn't really considered that she might be confused about anything. What was confusing? He had wanted to ask her out, and he had done so. She was brilliant – what could she possibly misunderstand about that?

Warrington, older and wiser, nodded solemnly in understanding. "I imagine so. I remember what a difficult time I had with – " he left off suddenly, then caught Severus' raised eyebrow. A wicked grin crept across the old man's face and he took Hermione by the elbow, pulling her away from Severus. "Slytherins don't show affection the way you're used to, young one," he whispered, casting an inauspicious glance over her shoulder at Severus. She looked at him with wide eyes. "The beautiful Gryffindor girl who turned my head never understood, and she left me for – well, just know that every act means more than you think. Anyone else would have been buying you roses and trinkets by now. If that's what you want, you're with the wrong man."

Hermione swallowed hard and cast a glance at Severus as well. He was scowling, though he made no move to interrupt. "Frankly, Professor, I'm not exactly sure what I want," she admitted in a small voice. A wry smile came over the man's face, then. Hadn't he heard the same line? He wondered briefly if Severus had bothered to tell her that he liked her at all, then shook his head. As much as he'd like to protect his former student, it wasn't any of his business.

"All I'm saying is: take nothing for granted, Miss Granger." Professor Warrington was conscious of Severus' glare, but comparatively immune to it. Nevertheless, he let her go and suppressed a grin as she nearly scampered back to the younger man's side. Maybe it would work out for them as it had not for him.

Severus excused them stiffly, claiming it was time to find their seats, and Hermione was grateful. Professor Warrington appeared to be nearly as old as Professor Dumbledore, but he was almost the man's polar opposite. Where Dumbledore was warm and forgiving, Warrington was hard and demanding. What had he meant by taking her aside that way? It wasn't as if she was in a position to break his precious pupil's heart.

She looked surreptitiously at Severus as he led her back through the maze. He'd been careful all evening to walk slowly enough so that she wouldn't fall behind, so she could see his face. He looked angry. She stopped walking abruptly. They likely had another 15 minutes before Warrington would step on stage, and she wanted to understand exactly what was going on.

Severus noticed when her footsteps ceased and stopped as well. When he turned to look at her he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She stood with an intense look of concentration in her eyes, her hands on her hips. She was worrying her bottom lip nervously. When she looked up into his eyes, he felt some of her nerves transferring to him, but he didn't shift his gaze. He was unaware that the angry look on his face was only strengthening her resolve. He was about to ask her why she'd stopped when she began to speak. This time, rather than talk over her, he fell silent.

"If I tell you what he said, will you promise to tell me what he meant by it?" It had occurred to her that this would alleviate his anger as well as force him to explain exactly why he'd asked her to the convention.

Severus was a little alarmed when this question was accompanied by a smirk. Smirking Gryffindors generally meant trouble. Hoping she wouldn't extract a wizard's oath, he nodded cautiously. "Alright." He turned abruptly and led her through three more corridors until they reached a small, carpeted room with several candy machines and a soda dispenser. Hermione took a seat on the couch, while Severus stood uncomfortably. Then she smiled and gestured toward the seat beside her. With only a moment's hesitation he seated himself stiffly as she recounted Warrington's warnings, verbatim. Then she leaned back and waited for the translation from 'Slytherin' to 'English.'


	4. Ch 3

**Chapter 3 of A Likely Story**

"I suppose he was just trying to tell you that – " Severus winced and fell silent. That had been his third attempt at an explanation, and the third one he'd aborted mid-sentence. She didn't look impatient yet, but he could feel the frustration rising in his own chest. "Oh bloody hell," he muttered, focusing his eyes on the door handle. Could he will it to open so he could go and investigate? Probably, but she'd see right through that.

Hermione was even more confused now than she'd been before. Professor Snape had always been one of the most articulate people she knew. He couldn't possibly be at a loss over the actual meaning of the old Slytherin's words, as she was. She was beginning to wish she hadn't asked, and had just decided that perhaps it'd be best if she just took his hand and told him that they should find their seats for Warrington's talk. As she reached for his hand, however, he pulled it violently away, unaware of her gesture, and stood abruptly from the couch. He paced restless before her, and she wondered if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Are roses and trinkets what you want?" he demanded finally, upon finding himself unable to discuss the meaning of any other part of Warrington's whispered conversation.

"What? No! I mean, yes of course, every girl likes flowers, but –" Hermione was instantly on the defensive, feeling like a school girl again. It hadn't been so very long ago that he'd used the same voice to accuse her of aiding Neville in class.

He waved his hand impatiently and she fell silent out of habit. Then she reconsidered. What was he going to do, take house points if she spoke out of turn? "BUT," she continued firmly, "I didn't come here tonight expecting that."

He glared at her a moment longer before his expression softened. What DID she expect, then? And how could he get her to tell him without actually having to come out and ask? Her voice broke through his thoughts.

"Honestly, I never EXPECTED to be asked in the first place. It was very thoughtful of you to introduce me to Professor Warrington, and – "

A sudden thought occurred to him and he cut her off. "And you're glad for the opportunity to attend, which you couldn't have done without me," he finished. His voice was cold. However much he appreciated the opportunistic nature of his Slytherins, he found he did NOT appreciate that same quality in Hermione Granger. On the contrary, the idea that she'd only agreed to come because it was something that held intrinsic interest for her seemed to leave a foul taste in his mouth. He thought bitterly that he should have known better than to get his hopes up.

For her part, Hermione couldn't comprehend his sudden shift in demeanor. "Well, yes," she stuttered, rising as well, "but – "

"You need say nothing more, Miss Granger," he said shortly, cutting her off once again. "Come, you should take your seat, or the point of the evening will be wasted." He was out the door and striding down the hall before she could respond. She followed, her brow furrowed as she tried to determine exactly what she'd done wrong.

He led the way to the auditorium, which was good as she was still quite turned around by the maze of corridors they'd passed through. He gestured her into the aisle ahead of him, and she got halfway to the stage before the lights dimmed. She turned to ask where he'd like to sit, and found that she was alone. She looked about, trying to find where he'd gone, but couldn't find him. She closed her eyes in defeat for a moment before turning and taking a seat in the nearest row, being sure to leave the aisle seat open in case he should change his mind. He did not.

Standing alone in the back of the auditorium, safely ensconced within his own disillusionment charm, Severus watched her take her seat. He was a little surprised when she turned to look for him, having assumed that she would be more comfortable at this point without him there. His brow furrowed in confusion when he realized she'd left him a seat, but he made no move to join her. Instead he focused his eyes unseeingly on Professor Warrington as he began to speak.

Hermione listened half-heartedly to the presentation and clapped politely as the lights came up. When she checked her watch she realized that the aged Professor had spoken for only 20 minutes. It'd felt like forever, worse than Binns, even. She told herself it was only because she was thinking about Severus when the man himself appeared at her side, followed swiftly by Professor Averbeck.

"I daresay you're ready to return to London, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, his sneer very much as pejorative as she remembered it. But it appeared he wasn't getting off the hook that easily.

"WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY, CHAP? BACK HOME? CERTAINLY NOT BEFORE WE'VE DANCED A ROUND,EH?" Averbeck turned abruptly and headed up the stairs.

Hermione resisted the urge to put her fingers in her ears as the hefty fellow bellowed. This time, however, she felt no desire to giggle, though Severus looked distinctly uncomfortable. They followed the portly man into the dance hall, thankful he'd said nothing more. Hermione made no attempt to take the irate Potions Master's hand. She was starting to wonder whatever had possessed her to do so in the first place.

Her first glance around the ballroom made her gasp, and drew Severus' attention. She was craning her neck to look upward at the gilded ceiling just as she had years ago when she'd first seen the ceiling of the Great Hall. He was reminded forcibly in that instant of how young she was. Nearly twenty years his junior. In the wizarding world this was hardly considered important, but he knew that in the muggle world their age difference was taboo. Perhaps she was incapable of seeing him that way at all?

Before either of them had any time to assess their new situation, Averbeck, with a great slap on each of their backs, had pushed them into a crowd of dancers, spinning decorously to the rhythm of an instrumental group that they couldn't locate. Hermione registered several disapproving glances before she found herself being led capably across the dance floor.

In an effort to stem the tide of ill wishes that was flowing their way for interrupting the dancing, Severus had grasped her hand and pulled her toward him, snaking an arm around her waist. He flashed a wicked grin at Averbeck in spite of himself, as she glanced around in a daze. Regardless of all that had happened, it was comforting to hold her this way. He'd first got the desire to do so months ago, just after her parents' deaths. He'd found her sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld place at an ungodly hour of the morning, already dressed, or perhaps still wearing her clothes from the day before. He had violently repressed the thought, just as she'd forced her tears to stop when he appeared. He'd sat with her in silence, though, accepting a cup of the tea she'd already brewed. It was the only time he'd ever consumed anything in his old rival's house, but he suspected she didn't realize that.

He was brought crashing back to reality when he realized that she'd turned her eyes back to him. He let her go abruptly, spotting someone across the room whom he'd meant to speak with and smoothly excusing himself.

Hermione stood on the outskirts of the dance floor and watched him retreat, shaking her head. She hadn't danced with anyone since the summer after her sixth year. She'd been allowed one week at home, during which time she'd gone on the only 'date' of her life, with one of her parents' dental assistants (at her mother's insistence). The young man had been very respectful, and polite. He'd even been handsome. All the things mothers look for in a son-in-law. Hermione smiled wryly. Dancing one third of a song with Severus had made her heart flutter and her vision had narrowed almost instantly to include only him. Something in the careful way he'd held her had caused her to react. THAT had never happened in the entire night of dancing with Jonathan.

After a few moments she realized that she was in the way, and went to find a chair on the sidelines. She watched as Severus talked stiffly with several people she didn't know, feeling like a teenager relegated to the kid's table at Christmas dinner. She tapped her foot in growing annoyance.

"Ah, Miss Granger." She was startled as Professor Warrington addressed her, and stuttered out an acceptance when he asked her to dance. She lost sight of Severus as the elderly wizard swept her adeptly around the dance floor. She was tense, expecting at any moment that he would resume their earlier conversation. But Professor Warrington restricted his comments strictly to potions. By the end of the song, he had to admit that her understanding exceeded even Severus' praise of her. He told her formally that he would look forward to having her in class.

Severus never lost track of her, and watched as she spoke easily with his old mentor. Why was it too much to hope that she could converse that way with him? He shook himself mentally. Jealous of a one hundred and forty year old bachelor-for-life like Warrington? Pathetic. He spoke with the school's bookstore manager and arranged for all Hermione's first term books to be sent to her flat, charging the cost to his own vault number. In spite of the attitude he perceived that she held toward him now, he wanted her to have no more obstacles at Geneva than necessary.

As the song wrapped up, he made sure to appear at her side, and took her elbow perhaps less gently than the situation warranted. "I trust you're prepared to return now, Miss Granger?" he asked snidely, earning a disapproving glance from Warrington. Hermione blinked up at him, obviously startled.

"Of course, _Professor_" she replied evenly. After all, he'd regressed to calling her by her title. Though she didn't understand WHY he was behaving this way, she had no difficulty responding to the behavior correctly. Let it not be said that Hermione Granger couldn't give as well as she got.

Severus forced his face to remain expressionless, though the change in how she addressed him was duly noted. He purposely avoided Warrington's eyes as he shook the man's hand and led her out of the hall. He barely registered where he was going as he strode back through the maze of hallways. He was anxious to be home, alone, though he was not at all looking forward to the questions Minerva was certain to pose tomorrow. What a fool he'd been to hope.

Hermione realized that they were lost in the corridors long before Severus did, but she continued to follow him, trotting to keep up. He was no longer reigning in his stride to accommodate her. Finally she stopped walking altogether. She'd had enough. He'd gone cold out of nowhere, disappeared during Warrington's talk, spent all the time at the dance talking with other people, leaving her to Warrington's mercy, and now he was practically running from her. She leaned against the wall beside a picture they'd already passed twice and waited. He didn't appear to notice, and kept walking.

It wasn't until he came through that corridor again, and saw her leaning casually against the wall, that he realized he was even lost. Hermione was gazing at him levelly and when he met her eyes, he couldn't stop himself from looking away. They faced each other silently for a moment before she spoke. "Are there anti-apparation wards here?" she asked, taking pity on his discomfort.

Severus' eyes snapped back to her. She always had the answers, he had to give her that. He shook his head.

"I suppose I'll meet you out front, then," she said quietly. An instant later she was gone. Severus ran a hand through his hair defeatedly. Just a little more of this hell and he could go back to his dungeon. This time he intended to stay there, where he belonged. He had learned his lesson. Taking a deep breath, he apparated to the front of the building, his face once again expressionless. He looked around. Hermione was already walking toward the nearest building. With a smirk, he apparated to her side, startling her. She deserved it.

She stopped outside the door to the darkened building, ignoring Severus entirely as she read the plaque. "Bones Hall," she read aloud. Then she looked up at the four-story building.

"Transfiguration classes, mostly, though the art department uses the west wing. Moving portraits and a few dark rooms for photos, that sort of thing." He kept his voice neutral, and quiet. They were the only ones wandering campus at this time of night, with the exception of security, he supposed. No sense in drawing attention. She proceeded to the next building, a long walk, and pulled up the skirt of her dress to mount the stairs.

It was at this point that Severus noticed the dress. He'd been so distracted by wards upon arriving at the flat that he hadn't really had time to look at her properly. She'd obviously gone to some effort to look nice. He told himself she'd done it for Warrington. But then, he'd never mentioned that she might meet the man, had he?

They toured the campus in this way, Hermione leading and Severus trailing behind, answering questions she never asked. "Thornton Flint Dormitory," she read, when they'd reached the last building on the far side of campus. She waited to see if he would continue to reply.

"Boys' Dorm," he said quietly. "I spent my first two years up on the second floor." To her astonishment, he pointed to a window. When he lowered his arm, she bit her lip, turned quickly and took his hand.

"Why were you upset?"

Astounded again at her forthrightness, though he knew he shouldn't be, Severus pulled his hand from her grasp indolently. "I allowed myself to hold expectations which were obviously unreasonable, Miss Granger. I apologize if that gave you any discomfort. Now, I believe we have finished this impromptu tour, and I, for one, would like to get some sleep tonight." He almost retracted his answer as her large brown eyes blinked up at him in such obvious remorse. She shook her head.

"Whatever it was, I'm sorry," she offered. As expected, he only sneered down at her. Before he could throw out another vicious remark, however, she spoke again. "I'm sure I can make it from the apparation point to my flat. Thank you for inviting me," she hesitated a brief moment, then added, "Goodnight, Severus."

_A quick note for lovergirl:_

_I'm sorry that you don't like this particular 'ship, but I hardly think that is sufficient reason to boycott my work. I have another Muriel fic in the works that you might enjoy, and I'd hate for you to miss it simply because you didn't "approve" of one of my other stories. _

_There is a social stigma against relationships with such a large age gap, however, such relationships are a fact of life, even among us muggles. I am not saying that I agree with them, I am only saying that they exist. People make that work every day. And considering the similarities between Severus and Hermione (ie. intelligence, a certain social ineptitude, and a propensity to get other people out of trouble at great risk to themselves), I don't think the match is all that bad. You are entitled to your opinion, of course, and I am always glad to hear it. However, I think you may want to open your mind a bit. The world is full of strange wonders, and love can sprout in places unlooked-for when you least expect it. _


	5. Ch 4

**Chapter 4 of A Likely Story**

Ron was dying to ask. Hermione could see it in his eyes, and hear it in the tenseness of his voice. But he wasn't going to say a word about it in front of Harry, she knew that, too. Naturally she latched onto Harry like a life-line. Three agonizing days passed in the flat as the friends talked about everything except Severus Snape. Hermione had heard nothing from him, in spite of the note she'd sent to thank him. It wasn't until a package arrived for her that anyone found the courage to broach the subject.

"Hermione?" Ron called from the window, where he was hoisting something invisible, but large, down onto the floor. A very smug looking owl was preening on the windowsill when she came out of her room. Ron ended the invisibility and lightening enchantments on the box, and they were both a little shocked to see that it was from Geneva.

"What'd you get?" Harry asked, coming in from the kitchen. Excited, Hermione began pulling out the books for her first term. When she'd registered for classes the previous week, she'd practically begged for a book list, and they'd told her it simply wouldn't be available until the day before classes. She searched in vain for a note of explanation, or at least an invoice. There was nothing.

The boys waited, exchanging a glance. Finally Harry asked the obvious question. "It's from Snape, isn't it?"

"I imagine so, though after THAT evening I can't fathom why he would – " she trailed off and looked guiltily up at her best mates, setting aside a huge Arithmancy text. "We didn't exactly hit it off." Harry only snorted in response, and Ron patted her on the head, making her roll her eyes. "OKAY, so it was the date from hell!" she said emphatically. Ron broke out laughing, and she couldn't help but join in. A little bit of coaxing, and a butterbeer, and she told them all about it.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, took a bit more convincing. But then, his friends were accustomed to it, and more than up to the task. Minerva, with her usual impeccable timing, had arrived in his office at approximately the same time as Hedwig, bearing Hermione's rather generous thank you note. She simply summoned it to her without asking and read it with a very uncharacteristic smirk on her face.

_Dear Severus,  
I just wanted to thank you again for inviting me to the  
Convention. The campus and hall were lovely, and I  
enjoyed talking with you over dinner.  
Sincerely,  
Hermione Granger_

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with indignation. There had been no mention of having a nice time, or of dancing, or of – well – ANYTHING, really. The tone of the letter was much too formal for things to have gone well.

"Can I infer, then, that there is nothing in that missive that I'd care to read?" he snarled. He was seated at his desk as usual, marking papers, though she noticed that his stack of completed work was remarkably small for so late in the morning. She took a few more steps and laid the letter down before him. If possible, he scowled at her harder. "Keep it," he said shortly, lowering his eyes back to a third-year's essay. Minerva couldn't help but pity that unlucky student as his quill scratched violently over the paper.

"It sounds like dinner went well. Did you argue before or after the lecture?" she asked finally, softening her voice somewhat. He didn't look up. Not known for her patience, she picked the parchment up again and read it over. "She doesn't mention enjoying the lecture, so I suppose that means you upset her before that." _'Poor girl probably doesn't even remember what the lecture was about,' _she added to herself. She was intimately acquainted with Severus' temper, having been on the receiving end more often than was strictly necessary. It appeared she was going to be braving it again today. She wondered briefly if she ought to floo Albus, but then decided against it. When he was needed, he would come.

Lost in thought, she almost missed it when Severus mumbled, "Yes, Minerva, before the lecture, though I'm quite sure she retained everything the obnoxious old serpent said." So he was reading her mind. She looked up, an amused expression on her face, to see him sitting with his head in his hands, elbows planted firmly on either side of a messy essay onto which he'd scrawled, "45."

"Whom did you say was speaking?" she asked carefully. From experience she knew better than to come out and ask what she wanted to know – it never got you anywhere with a Slytherin. Better to ask a few related questions and see what they would give you.

"Warrington!" Severus exclaimed hotly. "If he'd just kept his forked tongue in his head – " He was not so agitated that he didn't notice a sudden stiffening in his colleague. "What?" he asked. She was suddenly looking away from him.

Warrington! Of all the possible Potions lecturers, Minerva could hardly believe that she was so unexpectedly confronted by that one. She realized at once that she wasn't going to get any further in talking to Severus about this. Her face was heating steadily, and so she was very relieved to see the door swing open. Naturally it was Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning Severus, Minerva," he said solemnly, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. Both professors stifled a sigh, for different reasons.

"…and so she only went along because she was interested in the lecture. Probably more in SPITE of who was asking than because of it," he finished bitterly, feeling stupid as he spouted his woes to the Headmaster. It always happened this way. Something about the infuriating old Gryffindor made people, who would normally say nothing at all, spill their guts to him. Severus shook his head in self-disgust. Albus was shaking his head as well, but it was Minerva who spoke.

"Trust you to find the most ridiculous and hurtful conclusion, Severus," she said sternly, earning herself a severe glance from the Headmaster.

"What she means is: Are you certain that is what Hermione was trying to say? It is possible that she was glad to be invited for more reasons than the one you discussed." He looked at the younger man over the rims of his glasses until he'd stopped pacing and turned to face them.

"I don't see what else she could have – "

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Severus! Of course she would say she was pleased with where you chose to take her! If you'd offered to take her to the Leaky Cauldron, she'd probably STILL have said she was pleased with your choice!" Minerva forced her hands not to fist as she glared across the room at Severus. How thick could he possibly be? It wouldn't matter where he took Hermione. If she liked him well enough, she'd be grateful! She calmed herself at Albus' warning glance and sank back down into a chair, wondering just how long Severus' temper was going to hold out.

To the Gryffindors' surprise, Severus had stopped pacing and was looking at her intently. "Do you really think so?" he asked, his voice sounding more than a little childlike. He wasn't sure he was willing to let himself hope.

"Of course, my boy," Albus said soothingly. This earned him the usual glare, at which he chuckled mildly, standing to leave. Minerva rose and followed him out, bidding Severus good day through tight lips. If anyone knew about Slytherin stubbornness, it was certainly she. Not, she admitted to herself, that Gryffindors tended to be much better. Still, she hated to see Hermione make the mistakes she herself once made. She resolved to owl her as soon as she made it back to her quarters.

* * *

"…so I obviously said something to upset him, though I can't imagine what. We hardly spoke the rest of the night." Hermione found as she told the boys about her date that it had upset her more than she thought. She fingered the spine of her new Potions book sadly. 

"But before that you had a pretty good time, right?" Ron said sportingly.

"Er – yes, I suppose so."

"I don't know why you even agreed to go with him!" Harry exclaimed. "I mean, I can see why you'd want to go to meet your new professor and see the campus, but surely you could have gone alone, couldn't you? Or Ron or I could have gone with you!"

A horrified look came across Hermione's face as she replayed the conversation with Severus in her mind. "Oh, Harry, you're right," she said quickly, cutting off Ron's next comment. "He must think I only – But surely he realizes – I've got to get to Hogwarts." She was off the couch and jogging into her room for a pair of shoes before either boy could say anything more. She passed them once more on her way out the door. "Good thinking, Harry, thanks!" she exclaimed. The door closed behind her with a thump.

"I hate it when she does that," Harry grumbled. "You'd think she could at least take time to finish her sentences." Ron looked at him out of the corner of his eye and decided not to mention that there was no way Hermione could have gotten into that convention without Professor Snape. He was pretty sure Harry would figure out the rest from there, and it would just bring on another fit of the sulks.

Hermione was at the top of the dungeon stairs when it occurred to her that she had no idea what she was going to say. She stood, indecisive, for only a moment before trotting down the stairs, thankful that she'd taken the time to put her hair up earlier. Gathering her esteemed courage, she knocked on the door to Severus' office, and heard him invite her in, in his usual sour tone.

He narrowed his eyes when she entered, though he had indicated that she should do so. He found his back straightening in his chair. "Miss Granger," he said formally, inclining his head only slightly.

Hermione forced a brave smile. "I wanted to thank you for the books. I'd asked them for a list, but they said they wouldn't have it until the end of the summer."

Severus put on a surprised look, wondering if it would do any good. "I'm quite sure I don't know what you're referring to," he said coldly.

Hermione tilted her head in question. "My course books for next term, a huge box arrived this morning," she said impatiently. She knew it had to be him, who else could have done it?

"Indeed. I'm sure you're pleased, but I fail to see how I am involved." It would be easier if she'd just assume Albus had done it and leave him in peace.

Hermione found herself growing angry at his dismissive tone of voice. "Well, I DON'T fail to see how you're involved!" she exclaimed. He looked up with wide eyes before his face took on its usual sneer. She continued before he could answer. "And it was very thoughtful of you. Whether you accept my thanks or not is your choice, but I do appreciate it." She spun angrily, all thoughts of explaining why she'd gone to the convention with him having been pushed aside by his obvious disdain. She had a hand on the doorknob when he stood.

"Hermione," he said quietly, causing her to turn. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. She blinked at him. "You're welcome," he said finally. She nodded and turned back toward the door. She was still rather upset that he'd been so rude, but she forced herself to remember that he hadn't had much experience with gratitude in recent years.

One hand still on the doorknob she turned back to face him. He was still standing behind his desk, though his eyes were now fixed on the far wall. "You're an excellent dancer," she said into the silence. "Maybe next time we can skip the lecture and just go dancing." His eyes, once again comically wide, snapped to hers, and she smiled. A moment later she was bounding up the dungeon staircase, pleased that she'd managed to convey her meaning without actually having a discussion about it.

She made it halfway to Hogsmeade before she was accosted by a school owl carrying a letter from Professor McGonagall. Curious, she opened it. She laughed a little before she told the owl that she'd be right up and headed back toward the castle, the bird flying ahead to let the deputy Headmistress know she was coming.


	6. Ch 5

**Chapter 5 A Likely Story**

"Of course I should have realized you would figure it out," Minerva said graciously, pouring her favorite student another cup of tea. They'd discussed Severus' behavior in detail, something Hermione would only have felt comfortable doing with another female.

"I feel so stupid for not realizing what Professor Warrington was trying to say, though," Hermione replied, oblivious to Minerva's suddenly pursing lips. "Obviously he was trying to warn me that Severus wouldn't just come out and say that he liked me, and five minutes after his warning I go and muck things all up by trying to make him do exactly that!"

Hermione took a sip of tea before she continued. "Actually, it was awfully nice of him to even bother warning me. I got the impression he wished someone had warned his old girlfriend of the same thing. He seemed a bit – well – doleful, I suppose, or at least regretful. As if he was trying to protect me from something." She fell silent, finally noticing that her former Head of House was sitting on the very edge of her seat and gazing into the fire. "Are you alright, Prof – er – Minerva?" She was still getting accustomed to addressing her former professors by their first names.

"Of course," Minerva snapped, pulling her eyes back to her guest. She softened her voice quickly at the look of surprise on Hermione's face. "I suppose I've kept you long enough," she stated firmly, and Hermione had no choice but to accept that it was time to leave. Minerva offered to let her use the floo connection in her rooms, and moments later she found herself in her flat in London, dusting soot from her clothes and wondering what had come over her friend.

Minerva sat gazing at the fire for a long time. When she finally stood, she took a deep breath and made her way resolutely to the owlery.

Another three days passed, and Hermione found herself seated between Harry and Minerva at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, listening to Remus explain exactly what had taken place during his last mission. He'd missed several weeks' worth of Order meetings while he attempted to sway as many werewolves as possible to their cause. It was a difficult job, considering that he wasn't able to offer them the rights and privileges that their human relatives took for granted. Still, there were now over thirty new members of the Order who were willing to assist with surveillance and even to fight if necessary.

Hermione bit back a smile as Severus looked disgustedly across the table at Remus. She could practically hear what he was thinking. 30 new people to brew Wolfsbane for. Perhaps she should offer to help him?

Severus, for his part, was focusing his eyes on Remus for no better reason than to keep them off of Hermione. Potter was scowling at him every time he so much as glanced in her direction. He was rather disgusted with himself, really. In the last three days, he'd come up with no plausible way to ask her if she'd like to go dancing. In fact, he'd come up with no way to safely TAKE her dancing. Part of the lure of taking her to the conference at Geneva was the security there. Like Hogwarts, it was a place the Dark Lord would think twice or thrice before attacking. Severus had known nearly every person in attendance, having learned with them, or learned from them, or taught them himself. Dancing would be a different matter. They would present a rather convenient target at any place he could think of. Perhaps he'd have to give in and ask Albus for advice. He inadvertently made a face. Perhaps not.

"Severus, that look is hardly necessary. You do give a report at each meeting, after all," Dumbledore commented easily, his eyes twinkling knowingly. Severus snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that he'd just been called upon to speak.

"Of course, Headmaster," he responded smoothly in order to cut off any sniggering that may have been forthcoming. He proceeded to report on what little he'd been able to accomplish in the last week. When he fell silent, he spared a thought for whether or not the aging wizard at the head of the table had yet heard about the ward he'd taught Weasley. But Dumbledore moved on to Kingsley without further comment. Severus suspected that the fallout from that would come in private.

When Hermione was asked to speak, he, and most of the other purebloods, tried hard not to look amused. "I spoke with Dobby and Winky," she began, kicking Ron under the table when he snorted forcefully into his hand. "And several of the free house elves that the ministry now employs." That had been S.P.E.W.'s best achievement; getting Percy to lobby on behalf of house elf rights with his boss. They were at least paid for their work now, though the ministry elves refused to take any days off. "And they are all anxious to help," she continued with a wry smile. Even she now knew enough about house elves to know that they were always anxious to help. By the time she'd explained the limits on a free house elf's power (which were not as strenuous as they'd been led to believe), and how she thought they'd be of assistance to the Order, none of the purebloods were amused. Interested, impressed, and humbled, perhaps, but certainly no longer amused.

"Brilliant," Severus whispered to himself as the others discussed the merits of her plan. "The Dark Lord would never think to look for opposition from that quarter." Hermione, who'd been anxious about presenting this idea in the first place, was looking amongst her peers, trying to decide what they thought when she caught his words. Suddenly it didn't matter to her what anyone else thought at all, so long as he approved. She grinned as she met his eyes, and was more than a little surprised when he smiled back. It was tentative, as had been his smile at dinner the previous week, but it was there.

There was more talk, on many subjects, but neither of them could really concentrate on it. Hermione took notes for later, as she always did, and for once she was sure she was going to need them.

When the meeting was over, Molly invited everyone to stay for dinner, which she'd likely spent most of the day preparing. Hermione met Severus' eyes across the table. Without speaking, they both rose and ventured into the sitting room. No one followed them, but Albus and Minerva exchanged a glance as well, both smiling mysteriously.

"Thank you. I have no desire to attempt this with Potter glaring at me," Severus said softly when he'd certified that they were alone. He looked remarkably nervous as he paced before her. When the moments stretched into minutes of silence, Hermione smiled a little.

"I don't think having Harry in a different room has been that much help," she teased, earning her a sharp glance. His expression softened when he saw that she was still smiling at him. He turned to face her. His lips twitched upward in response, and he clarified without thinking.

"I do not need another Potter making an ass out of me in front of someone I care about." He pursed his lips in annoyance, having meant at all costs to avoid saying just what he'd managed to say. He looked away from Hermione quickly, having no desire to see the shock on her face. He still hadn't apologized for his behavior at the convention, and he wasn't sure he intended to. She wouldn't have come to the castle last week if she hadn't already forgiven him. 'Yes,' he decided silently, 'I can surely get out of this with at least some of my dignity still intact.' Of course, he didn't realize that as he was thinking, Hermione had moved a great deal closer to him.

She looked up at his profile as he turned his face away, stifling a giggle. His nose really was huge. But he had a high forehead that bespoke intelligence, and high, defined cheekbones that gave his face a look of fineness that it might not otherwise have had. No, he wasn't handsome, but he had a great deal of character. "You had no intention of saying that out loud," she commented, telling rather than asking. His eyes snapped back to hers, but he didn't betray his surprise at her nearness.

"No," he admitted, frowning. Her smile widened.

Slowly, as if afraid she might startle him, she put a hand to his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, she let her fingers trail to the back of his neck and pulled his head toward her, planting her lips softly on his cheek. "Thank you for saying something I couldn't misunderstand," she whispered gratefully.

After an immobile instant of shock, he put his arms around her, suppressing a relieved sigh. She wasn't pulling away, and her lips were still tantalizingly close to his ear. It had been several years since he'd been this close to any reputable woman, and his body was stirring in response. His voice shaky, he whispered back, "If I had known this was the reward, I'd have told you months ago." She chuckled appreciatively and put her other arm around his neck, blissfully unaware of the conversation, which was taking place in the kitchen. Unfortunately her ignorance was shattered by Harry's rather loud observation.

"OH COME ON, RON, WHAT ELSE COULD HE WANT? HE'S BLOODY 20 YEARS OLDER THAN SHE IS!" The comment rang through the house, and was followed by a pervasive silence. Severus felt Hermione tense in his arms and let her go quickly, afraid she might believe what her friend was obviously implying. She pulled away, anger written all over her face.

"Excuse me, please, I seem to have neglected something in the kitchen," she said tightly. Not waiting for a response, she turned on her heel. When she arrived in the doorway, everyone's eyes were already turned to her as though they'd been waiting breathlessly for her to arrive. She decided then and there that she wasn't going to let her audience down. Two steps behind her, Severus decided he'd rather not witness this. What if she AGREED with Potter? He didn't think he could stomach it, so he hung back, hoping he wouldn't have to hear any more than he already had.

Hermione walked calmly over to Harry, who had stood up from the table in his anger. His face was red, but his eyes were suddenly wide, as though he'd only just realized what he'd done. He turned to face her slowly.

"That was every bit as foul and disrespectful as anything Draco Malfoy ever said, Harry," she said quietly. Her words should have been sufficient warning, but he was shocked when the back of her right hand connected with his cheek. Her mother's engagement ring, one of the many things Moody had gathered for her from her parents' decimated home, drew an angry welt across his face as his head snapped violently to the side. She heard Molly gasp.

Ron jumped up from his chair immediately, throwing Harry a sympathetic glance before taking Hermione by the elbow. "He didn't mean it, Hermione, he's just upset. He doesn't understand that age doesn't matter so much in the wizarding world," he was blathering a bit, but didn't care, so long as it kept her from completely tearing apart his best mate. Not that Harry didn't deserve it after that comment.

Ron shook his head as he led her back out of the kitchen. He'd been trying to get Harry to see reason, but it didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon. He made a mental note to see if Ginny could talk some sense into him.

"I don't think we'll be staying for dinner, Ron," Hermione said wearily when they were out of earshot of the kitchen. Severus, who'd been staring blankly out the window on the other side of the room, heard her and took heart. Did that mean she might come to dinner with him? And if so, where would he take her? Minerva's comment about the Leaky Cauldron flashed through his head, bringing a tight smile to his lips. It was still too dangerous to go anywhere like that, but perhaps the house elves at Hogwarts could help him come up with something. He kept his gaze on the street outside as Ron continued to apologize for his friend.


	7. Ch 6

**Chapter 6 of A Likely Story**

Severus was relieved when they arrived back at Hogwarts without mishap. He marveled inwardly at how easy it had been. He hadn't even asked her to join him. She'd taken his hand, and looked up into his eyes. He'd raised an eyebrow, and she'd nodded. Then they'd both apparated to Hogsmeade. It was both gratifying and frightening that she could understand him that way.

Potter's words still hung between them, though. He could feel her discontent. She'd obviously not considered that his motive might be so nefarious, which was surprising in itself. He puzzled, as they walked, over how to explain that he wouldn't pressure her without making it sound as though he didn't want –

"Would you like some assistance with the Wolfsbane potion?" Hermione asked suddenly, startling him, though her voice wasn't loud. He opened the door for her and she passed into the castle ahead of him. He scolded himself mentally as he tried to figure out why she thought he'd need help with something he'd done every month for four years. Perhaps she was looking for an excuse to stay? He rolled his eyes at his own hopeful dramatics.

Hermione wondered if she had offended him when he didn't respond. Of course she knew he was perfectly capable of preparing it, it was just that there were going to be so MANY people to prepare it for. She quickly stuttered out an explanation. "I mean, with all those werewolves living in the dungeons, you'll have quite a lot of it to make, won't you?"

Oh yes, Remus' newest pack. "Yes, actually, an extra pair of hands would be welcome," he answered, trying not to let his disgust register in his voice. He was pretty sure she liked Remus, though thankfully not in the same way she'd liked Lockhart. It occurred to him suddenly that he hated all her friends. Well, the youngest Weasleys were finally shedding their more juvenile tendencies, but he truly despised most of the other Gryffindors, as well as Remus, Luna Lovegood, that Abbott girl from Hufflepuff that she'd become friends with last term, and, of course, Potter. He didn't notice his lips curling into a familiar sneer. Potter, who'd nearly ruined something for him tonight that was a great deal more important than anything the boy's father had managed to muck up. He was halfway through a list of things he'd like to do to the sullen little git when he realized they'd arrived at the entrance to his classroom. He'd barely managed a whole sentence since Potter's outburst.

He opened the door for her, amazed at her self-control now that he'd registered the fact that she'd been silent for nearly the entire trip. For her part, Hermione was impressed that Severus hadn't just hexed Harry and been done with it. The thought had certainly run through her mind that a nice splinter hex in his ass might give him something else to focus on besides her – er – honor, as it were.

She knew from her extensive reading that relationships between people of varying ages were quite common in the wizarding world. 'Look at Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall,' she reasoned to herself. There were over 40 years between their ages, and no one had been caterwauling over that. They'd dated for years! 'But what if Harry's right?' The thought leapt into her brain uninvited, and she squashed it violently. Severus had barely touched her, and she supposed this was a second date, of sorts. Either way, she hoped she'd cured Harry of his presumptuous need to defend her virginity. She shook her head as she entered the Potions Master's classroom, swinging her robes from her shoulders and throwing them over a chair in a gesture of familiarity that made Severus start, until he realized that it was HER chair. The same one she'd sat in for seven years. The same one she'd thrown her cloak over when he'd kept the dungeons cold enough to warrant such a garment.

"Perhaps we should go through to the sitting room?" he asked, his voice stiff. Here again was something she could misinterpret if she chose. But after a brief moment of surprise she seemed to realize that this would be preferable to talking in the classroom. She nodded and gathered her robes again to follow him.

He'd thankfully had the house elves clean his quarters a few days ago, and his sitting room didn't get much use, serving mostly as a buffer between his office and his living quarters. It contained the fireplace he used to floo Albus, his most frequently needed Potions texts, and some furniture arranged around a small table. He summoned a house elf to bring them dinner, and was glad when Winky appeared. Winky was the least likely of all the elves to feel obligated to stay and chat.

Hermione had, predictably, made her way to the bookshelf, and he allowed himself a smile when her back was turned. He shed his outer robes and lit a fire before Winky reappeared with rather more food than two people could eat. They sat down in silence.

Hermione, still trying not to think about Harry, thought instead about exactly what she hoped to gain from this. Three weeks ago, dating had been the furthest thing from her mind. Of course, she knew what everyone had said about her in school: _"If Ron doesn't marry her, no one will. She's just too smart for her own good," _Lavender had commented to Moaning Myrtle and Parvati one day. Hermione had been in the second stall, and Myrtle had known it, but she'd let the Gryffindor seventh year keep talking anyway. _"I mean with that frizzy hair, and her nose in a book all the time where no one can see her eyes, how does she ever expect to attract a man?"_ Hermione had spent another three hours in the lavatory that afternoon. And she knew Lavender wasn't the only one. The fact was that no one had ever ASKED her out on a date until Severus. Ron had taken her to Hogsmeade without Harry only during third year, when Harry couldn't go, and her date with Jonathan had been arranged by her mother. She couldn't help but think just how pathetic that was.

Which brought her around to the question of why she was in Severus Snape's private quarters eating dinner. They barely spoke, even now when he wasn't angry with her for anything. The silence was tolerable, she supposed. At least he was the type of person who wouldn't cajole her into playing chess or watching Quidditch while she was trying to read. She thought back to how nice it had felt when he'd held her at Grimmauld Place. Her stomach had done the same odd flops as when they'd danced so briefly at the convention. Hugging Harry and Ron had never felt that way. She'd gotten a similar feeling from George Weasley once, when he'd put his arms around her upon her arrival at the Burrow, but she'd found out a moment later that he was only hugging her so he could pour his newest experiment all over her hair. Needless to say she'd never felt the least bit of affection for him again.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Severus spoke. "There will be other people who think as Potter does, Hermione," he said, his eyes already focused on hers by the time she looked up. "I hope you are never one of them. I can assure you that your mind attracted my attention…" He could have left it there, but his most recent conversation with Minerva flitted through his head, and he continued before he could stop himself, "…long before I realized you were beautiful."

Minerva had taken him aside after a staff dinner earlier in the week to tell him again that he would have to be more forthright with Hermione than he was accustomed to being. She'd given him the same advice before he'd even asked Hermione to go to the convention, but apparently she thought he needed reminding. As Hermione reached over the table and slipped her hand in his, he felt a great deal of gratitude that he had a friend like Minerva, whose advice had obviously been correct once again. He squeezed her hand and smiled. He would never know it, but it was the most natural smile he'd managed yet.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered shyly, her eyes shining as she grinned back at him. Unable to eat left handed, she squeezed his hand in return and let him go grudgingly. Somehow that had answered her question as to exactly why she was eating dinner with Severus Snape.

"I've given a great deal of thought to how we might go dancing in the midst of this war," he said casually, surprised at himself for starting another conversation so quickly.

Hermione seemed pleased however, and answered, "I don't suppose I'd thought of that. There really aren't very many safe places left."

"No. And Albus discontinued the Halloween dances decades ago."

"You used to have dances? Other than the Yule Ball, I mean?"

"We never had the Yule Ball. That was a Triwizard tradition. Instead we had dances every Halloween. But one year there was a rumor that Minerva had a date, and Albus cancelled the dance to keep her from going with someone else. Of course, the official reason was that many students had lost family members that year, and the frivolity was unbecoming. He only told me later why he'd really done it." This was the longest speech he'd yet made in her presence, and Severus felt rather self-conscious about it by the time he'd fallen silent. What had possessed him to blather on like a – like a WEASLEY?

Hermione, however, didn't seem to notice. Indeed, for several moments she stared at him with a curious expression. Then she asked the question that would put things in perspective for both of them. "Was Professor Warrington teaching here then?"

At first Severus scowled at the mention of his old mentor, with whom he was still quite annoyed. Then he recalled why he was annoyed. Then it occurred to him to wonder what had possessed the old snake to try and 'help Hermione understand Slytherins.' Then he laughed. It wasn't the cold, heartless chuckle he'd placated Lucius with all those years, either. Nor was it the bitter laugh of derision that he saved for his students.

Infectious as it was, Hermione joined in, caught by the sudden understanding of the 'advice' that had been fostered on them both. Winky appeared just as they were falling silent, each with a pleased smile on their lips. The dishes were cleared away and dessert was served. "That would explain a great deal, wouldn't it?" Severus asked, his voice lighter than Hermione had ever heard it.

She nodded. "It would. Do you know, I don't think she and Professor Dumbledore are seeing each other anymore."

"No. Albus felt it was a conflict of interest, and unfortunately the Board of Governors agreed. That was a difficult year for the rest of the staff. He has since taken up with someone else on the Wizengamot. Also a conflict of interest, but there's no one with the authority to do anything about it, so he is content."

This news made the grin fade from Hermione's lips. "I wonder if Prof – er – Minerva is also content?" she asked seriously.

Severus raised an eyebrow. He would never have pegged Hermione for a matchmaker. It was more Molly's style, really. But there was a glint in her eyes that he recognized beyond a doubt. Hadn't Minerva looked exactly the same on that awful evening when she'd tried to set him up with Madam Rosmerta? What a fiasco that had been! He decided to steer the conversation elsewhere and stay far clear of that potential mess.

With a wry smile, he snapped his fingers, prepared to act on the only idea he had left if it would keep his beautiful date out of trouble. Winky appeared, and Severus stood. "Can you produce some dancing music, please Winky, and move the furniture over there?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the far wall and offered Hermione a hand, pulling her from her chair.

The music began and Severus chuckled a bit. "What is it?" Hermione asked, feeling more breathless (thankfully) than she sounded. He waited until Winky had taken the dessert dishes and disappeared to reply.

"It just sounds like something Crouch would've listened to."

Hermione was amazed to find herself laughing once again with her one-time professor, who she had never before believed capable of it. "You're handsome when you smile," she said quietly, surprising them both. Was he really, or was she just –

"Thank you," he whispered, trying to determine if she was crazy, or, preferably, just beginning to see him differently. He was aware that he wasn't a handsome man, after all. Thrusting the thought aside, he changed his hold on her hand and put his other arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer as they began to dance. Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, unconsciously pulling him still closer to accomplish it. Severus drew a deep breath and closed his eyes as well, tightening his arm around her waist and his hand on hers. A long time passed before either noticed how late it had become.

* * *

_**AN: I am so thrilled with everyone's reviews! I just wanted to let everyone know that if they want to chat, I've set up a livejournal:**_

_**www . livejournal . com / users / daintress**_

_**(minus the spaces, of course) I'll post info about new stories there, when they're about to begin posting. Thanks!**_


	8. Ch 7

**Chapter 7 of A Likely Story**

Hermione entered the flat she shared with her best mates at nearly 3:00 AM, and was grateful to find that everyone was asleep. The last thing she wanted was a late night encounter with one Harry Potter. She dressed for bed, smiling to herself, and fell asleep remembering how it felt to be held so gently. Severus really was an excellent dancer.

They'd decided as they talked softly together that Hermione would indeed help him to brew the Wolfsbane potion, so, late the next morning, she dressed hurriedly and exited her room, hoping he hadn't begun without her. She was delayed, however, by the sight of Harry and Ron sitting uncomfortably in front of the silent television, quite obviously awaiting her appearance.

"Morning," Ron said carefully. She looked from one face to the other and rolled her eyes.

"What is this, an intervention?" she asked irritably, with just a hint of humor in her voice. The boys exchanged a glance, Ron looking particularly confused.

"Sort of," Harry answered, swallowing hard. "We just wanted to be sure you're alright."

Hermione looked at him coldly. "You weren't exceedingly concerned about my well being last night when you insulted someone important to me."

Harry flinched, and Ron prodded him. "Sorry, Hermione. I wasn't thinking." He didn't look very contrite.

"Obviously." There was a beat of silence, then Hermione sighed. "Harry, do you really think you're better qualified than I am to decide who I date?"

Harry looked a little shocked at that question. He hadn't really thought of it from that position. "No," he whispered, finally. Behind him Ron winked at Hermione, pleased that progress had been made. She smiled back, and came to sit beside them on the couch. Harry scooted over to make room. Hermione put her arms around his neck, and he released a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He squeezed her hard. Behind his back, Ron took one of her hands. When the three friends broke apart, Harry was smiling sheepishly. "Permission to hex him if he hurts you?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure, Harry, what are friends for," she said, shaking her head. They laughed. "But ASK me before you decide I'm hurt, alright?" she added severely.

"Alright, alright," he said, laughingly, his hands in the air.

Hermione explained that she was on the way to Hogwarts to make a start on the Wolfsbane, and they parted as friends once again, though she didn't offer to heal the angry scrape on his cheek. When she arrived at Hogwarts, the Potions classroom was empty, though ten cauldrons had been set out, each with a spoon beside it. Severus had given her the password to his private quarters, so she used it, but he wasn't there either. Confused, she made her way back up the steps in search of Minerva. Eventually she found her pacing the Headmaster's office. Albus himself was seated in this chair, watching her with an expression somewhere between amusement and empathy. The gargoyle guarding the staircase had moved for her before she'd even started guessing the password, so they were both startled when she appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, Hermione," the Headmaster began, "we were hoping you would join us shortly." As he spoke, Minerva lowered herself into a chair, gesturing that Hermione should do the same.

"What's wrong? Where's Severus?" she asked, her eyes roving from one professor to the other.

"I'm afraid there was some trouble with Remus, and we had to send Severus after him," Albus said gravely. Unsure of what else to ask, or even if she'd be permitted any more information, Hermione remained silent. After a moment, he continued. "It is likely he will be away through the full moon, but he indicated that you would know what to do and could handle the Wolfsbane potion."

At this extraordinary statement, both Hermione and Minerva started. "Sir, I've never attempted to brew even one cauldron of it. He told me last night we'd need at least 20 cauldrons full, to be safe. We were going to do it together, since it wasn't practical for one person to handle more than five cauldrons at a time. Even at that, it was going to take us the whole two weeks!" As she'd spoken, she rose from the chair, and unconsciously began pacing the same circuit that Minerva favored. The professors exchanged a small smile, noticing.

But Minerva's smile disappeared abruptly as Hermione hit upon the solution, one of which she was certain Severus would approve. "Warrington," she said decisively, turning abruptly. The Headmaster turned his eyes to her as she spoke, missing Minerva's rather constipated expression. He frowned.

"I do not think it wise to inform outsiders of Order business at this late hour," he said.

"Severus trusts him," Hermione said impatiently. "And I can't think of anyone else I know who's capable of brewing it. I don't just need help. I need a guide."

In the end, the Headmaster was forced to agree that thirty-six wild werewolves in the castle posed too much risk. Hermione drafted a letter to Professor Warrington, arranging to meet him in Hogsmeade the following day if possible. Then she set about preparing ingredients. By dinner an affirmative answer had arrived, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that Minerva was nearly steaming at the ears in fury. She very wisely chose not to comment, and instead made her way back to the flat to tell the boys what was going on as soon as dinner was complete.

Promptly at 9am the following morning, Hermione apparated to the gates of Hogsmeade, startling Professor Warrington, who'd arrived only a moment before. She'd spent half the night sitting on the couch, staring at her Potions text. Harry and Ron thought she was preparing to brew the Wolfsbane, and they were correct. But she wasn't thinking about potions. Instead, she was considering just what she was going to say to the man who would soon be her professor. The man who, she was now positive, had been Minerva's date for the cancelled Halloween dance two decades ago.

"Sorry Professor!" she exclaimed as he stepped back in shock at her arrival. He scowled at her briefly before recovering himself, then grinned and said hello. The sudden shift made her very uncomfortable, but she stuck by the plan she'd decided on. If he could give her advice, the least she could do was share her own knowledge. Of course, being a Slytherin he probably wouldn't appreciate her coming right out and saying it. (Hadn't that been what he'd warned her about in the first place?) She'd decided last night that some cunning was in order. Side by side, they started towards the castle.

"I'm so excited to get started! I was thinking it would just be you and me, and no offense, I was afraid it would be dreadfully tense after the convention and all – " she took a quick breath and continued, watching his amused face out of the corner of her eye. "- but then Professor McGonagall – oh, Minerva. She told me to call her Minerva now – said she'd help, and I just know you'll like her, she's – " Here Hermione left off, then stopped walking, forcing a thoughtful expression onto her face. When she continued, her tone was just a little condescending.

"Well, she's a Gryffindor like me, so I'm afraid you'll have to be very blunt with her and say exactly what you mean, or she'll do something stupid like I did with Severus."

If the old man was onto her, he gave no indication. However, he no longer looked amused as he returned her gaze. He worded his question very carefully, obviously making an effort to sound unconcerned. "I wondered what you needed me for with him around. I suppose he won't help you with it? What could you have said to upset him that much?" Hermione knew at once that he was trying to get more information than she was willing to offer. She confined her answer to things about the convention.

"I wanted him to explain the advice you gave me, because it didn't make any sense. Of course, Minerva eventually explained to me that by asking him to do that I was completely disregarding your advice," this she said with an apologetic smirk. "I guess she's just spent more time around Slytherins, so she understands how you think better than someone my age." It was a ploy, of course, to get him to realize that her Head of House had matured since he'd known her. If he entered the castle with an open mind, they'd have a much better chance of getting along.

The brewing went better than Hermione had hoped. It had been a stretch for her acting ability to convince Minerva to help. She'd used the pretext that she wasn't comfortable alone in the dungeons with Warrington. Plus they could really use another stirrer. The Professors had worked in silence the whole first week, each of them speaking only to Hermione, who wondered every moment who would break first, one of them, or she, herself!

Finally, as they neared the end of the recipe on the first batch, Minerva threw her wooden spoon across the dungeon classroom. It clattered dully to the floor and Hermione and Warrington paused in their own stirring, looking up. "For Merlin's sake, Damian, you win! Aren't you going to SAY ANYTHING?"

Hermione turned to Warrington in time to see a smirk creep across his face. She stifled a giggle, thinking that Severus would have sported that exact expression in this situation. The next instant, however, thoughts of Severus overtook her. She'd been immensely worried. Neither the Headmaster, nor Minerva had offered her any further information. She could only assume that the task must have been important indeed for them to send him, considering that he was still being sought feverishly by his one-time allies. She was pulled out of her thoughts by a bright flash of light, and she instantly regretted ignoring her helpmates, who'd apparently begun to fight in earnest.

Shocked, she summoned their wands. It was her turn to smirk. Warrington's nose had been transfigured into a miniature sailing ship, sails and all, and he was supporting its weight with his hands, as it was too heavy for his neck. Minerva was no better off, as she stumbled around the classroom, blind, deaf and mute, oh, and furious as well. Hermione quickly put her to rights, afraid she might spill their precious potion. In a rare instance of tact, Hermione left the silencing charm on her. Warrington wouldn't say anything at all if Minerva got started first.

It took several attempts to undo her professor's handiwork, but after a few minutes, Warrington's nose appeared to have regained its original shape. He sat down with a thump, massaging it unhappily.

Hermione put on her best stern expression, which she'd copied shamelessly from McGonagall herself. She was pleased to see that Warrington looked concerned. "Now what exactly was that all about? Is this how you behaved when you both worked at Hogwarts together?" she demanded. She noticed Minerva blushing profusely, but kept her eyes on Warrington. "WELL?"

"Of course not. Minerva was much more discreet in those days." He shot a triumphant look passed Hermione and Minerva scowled. She had no choice, however, but to wait her turn as Hermione continued to question him.

"It has been a nightmare working with the both of you. I can only imagine that the Headmaster was forced to ask one of you to leave because he couldn't stand the tension. Merlin knows I can't! Now, why exactly are you refusing to talk to her? And none of this Slytherin craftiness. You've been plain enough with me this last week, I'm sure you can keep it up long enough to work this out." Her tone brooked no argument and Warrington heaved a great sigh. If he noticed Minerva's pleased expression, he didn't show it as he began to speak.

"Twenty years or so ago, I learned that I was mistaken in my faith in Minerva, and decided my time here was finished. The Headmaster was not forced to remove me, thank you very much," he finished, sounding as though he'd just tasted lemon juice and found it sweeter than this conversation.

"YOU WERE MISTAKEN?" As soon as the deputy Headmistress found her voice returned, she stood abruptly and made her way to the table at which he sat, facing him down over the boiling cauldron. "You're telling me that you left over that ridiculous Halloween dance?" she demanded, irate. His eyes were fixed on the table, much like Neville Longbottom after he'd melted his first cauldron.

Hermione was watching them carefully for any further signs of violence. There was a long pause, punctuated by the insistent bubbling of the cauldrons. It was nearly time for the next step.

"I never knew why you left. I just thought you'd changed your mind," Minerva continued finally. Warrington met her gaze with his own wide brown eyes. Behind her, Hermione summoned the wooden spoon from the floor and cleaned it. Then she thrust it back into Minerva's hands, effectively breaking up the moment. She was sure they'd be able to work it out now. She grinned to herself as they all went back to stirring, plotting how she could maneuver them to sit together at dinner.

Soon the first batch was bottled and cooling on Severus' desk, and they began the process again. Conversation was still sparse, but not entirely non-existent. They were off to a slower start this time, as Hermione hadn't prepared the ingredients ahead for this batch, afraid they wouldn't keep long enough. By the end of the week they were rushing to complete the final steps. On the evening of the full moon, they were hurriedly bottling the last of it. Wordlessly, Minerva picked up a tray to follow Warrington to the rooms the werewolves occupied. "Where are you going?" he asked coldly.

The answer was so obvious that Minerva didn't feel it necessary to answer. Instead she swept by him, delivering the flasks to several grateful men and women in the first corridor. Narrowing his eyes, Warrington did the same, but as soon as they'd reentered the classroom, he slammed the door and took her by the elbow. "That was foolish. In the future you will not venture beyond the sealed door. If any of them hadn't taken even one dose of potion, or was allergic to the ingredients, and couldn't keep it down – "

"I am well aware of the risks, Damian," she replied, her eyes flashing. "The more trips you have to make, the later the night becomes. Let's just finish before there's any danger, shall we?" Hermione watched the exchange breathlessly, amazed at how close they could come to giving it all away without actually noticing what they'd said. Studying them these last two weeks had been like taking a class in Slytherin/Gryffindor relations for her, and she'd had to resist the urge to take notes. For example, they'd both just managed to express their concern for one another's well being without ever stepping out of the careful framework of implied disregard. It was such an elaborate dance that Hermione found herself wondering what she was getting into with Severus. How would she ever be able to tell him how she felt without scaring him away? Obviously even Minerva hadn't figured out how to manage it yet!

Memories of his arms around her the night before he'd had to leave brought a smile to her lips as the two bickering professors exited the room again. She shook her head, trying to imagine what would happen when he finally returned. She could just see herself throwing her arms around his neck and being scowled at as he pried her off. No, he'd likely not take well to that sort of thing. Her thoughts were interrupted yet again by the sputtering flames of the office fireplace. A moment later, the Headmaster appeared. At almost the same instant, Professor Warrington pulled the door of the classroom open and allowed Minerva to precede him into the room. When the men's eyes met, Warrington scowled. Albus managed to keep his expression neutral, but it seemed to Hermione that it was a very near thing.

"Hermione, my dear," the Headmaster began, "Severus and Remus have just arrived. I believe they are on their way to the hospital wing." There was no twinkle in his eyes, but Hermione guessed that had more to do with Warrington than Severus.

Just in case, though, she voiced the first question that came to mind. "Is he alright?"

"He is none the worse for wear, all things considered."

Hermione glanced at Warrington and Minerva, who looked remarkably uncomfortable. She thought fast. "Would you two mind very much clearing up? I'd really like to go up and see him." As soon as they'd nodded their acquiescence, both of them hiding pleased smiles, Hermione turned back to Albus. "The moon will be rising any moment and Remus won't have had the potion. I don't think we'll be able to handle him without you," she said, not needing to affect worry as the truth of her own words sank in. Severus was in the hospital ward with an unmedicated werewolf.

Albus looked with concern at the two professors who'd already begun to clean up the cauldrons, but followed Hermione back through the green flames without comment. They heard Severus long before they saw him. He wasn't shouting, but the intensity of his words carried down the hall.

"Of all the juvenile, irresponsible, pig-headed, foolish – " Hermione pushed open the door, and Severus stopped speaking abruptly as she rushed toward him.

"You're alright!" Reminding herself that he wouldn't want to be molested in public, she held out both of her hands and took his, squeezing them tightly. "I was so worried," she whispered, looking up into his eyes.


	9. Ch 8

**Chapter 8 of A Likely Story**

Severus had spent a very frustrating two weeks tracking an irresponsible werewolf who'd been tracking a very talented death eater. Somewhere in his travels, Remus had encountered Bellatrix and had taken it upon himself to chase her down. As a result he had failed to check in with Headquarters, forcing them to send Severus after him, as everyone else was occupied with their regular tasks.

It had been grueling work. He'd slept outside most nights, and his robes were torn and filthy, his hair unwashed. In spite of it all, he'd found himself with plenty of time to think about Hermione. Or worry, rather. He'd been required to leave her with no explanation, and he wasn't fool enough to think that Albus would tell her more than was necessary. He imagined she would be furious when he returned. Perhaps she'd spent the time they were apart reconsidering her feelings? Did he even know for sure that she had any feelings about him to reconsider?

He wasn't concerned about the Wolfsbane. He had no doubt she could accomplish it. If she felt she couldn't, he knew he could trust her to find someone who could. That was a tad troublesome, as he was certain she'd ask Warrington, and she'd be hard pressed to resist the urge to throw him and Minerva together. He just hoped they wouldn't destroy his classroom.

It was a shock to him when she appeared in the hospital ward, looking so glad to see him. He let her take his hands, self-conscious of his grubby state. When he looked down at her, he found her staring back at him with a smile and glistening eyes. Had she been crying? Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, regardless of their audience. He restrained himself.

He couldn't tear his eyes from hers, however, until the Headmaster's voice cut through his thoughts. He was urgently issuing a request that they leave the hospital ward. In seconds the reason was apparent. Remus was transforming. Jarred into action, Severus hustled both Hermione and Madam Pomfrey into the corridor. A moment later the Headmaster joined them, looking grim.

"He should sleep through the night, but he'll be ill for a few extra days as a result." He quickly performed several locking charms on the door. When he'd finished, Severus added one as well, earning a raised eyebrow from his employer. He only smirked in response. "Well, Poppy, it appears you have the night off, as no one will be able to enter or leave the infirmary for some time. I shall contact you in your quarters if you are needed."

They parted ways, then, and Severus was relieved to find himself headed down to the dungeons, still clasping Hermione's hand tightly, and not realizing that she was as pleased with the situation as he.

Hermione held his hand perhaps more gingerly than she normally would. He looked exhausted, though it would never do to tell him so, she knew. "We just finished the potion," she said, her quiet voice echoing in the stairwell as they descended. "I had to ask Warrington to help – it didn't seem wise to do it myself with so much at stake."

"And he and Minerva are…?" he asked with an amused smirk.

"Speaking but not civil," she finished, grinning up at him. When they reached the doorway to the classroom, Severus glanced inside. There was no one present, so he ushered Hermione through the door and closed it behind them. When he turned, he was a little startled to see that she hadn't ventured any further into the room. She was smiling softly as she lifted a hand to his scruffy cheek. "I missed you, you know," she whispered, and was surprised to find that it was true. Though it had only been a scant few weeks since she'd begun to see him as more than just her professor, she found that his presence had become important to her.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, barely aware, as she pulled her hand back slowly, that he was following it. His eyes flew open as their lips met, but he closed them again quickly.

She'd meant it to be a chaste kiss, but found once it began that she didn't want to pull away. As if in response to her thoughts, Severus took her lower lip between his, and his arms found their way around her waist. Kissing Ron had been _nothing_ like this. Neither was really aware how long they'd been standing, pressed together, in the doorway, when they were startled by loud voices coming from the storage room.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"Well, what else could I THINK?" It seemed that Warrington had finally reached his breaking point. "Going around saying how _thoughtful_ he was to have cancelled it? I thought you regretted agreeing to go with me and were pleased for a way out of it!" His harsh voice left the room ringing for a moment. It occurred to Hermione that Minerva was probably trying to decide whether to comfort the man or scold him.

"So you ignored me and tendered your resignation as soon as possible! And left me to wonder what I'd done wrong! I cried over you for MONTHS, Damian!"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it? You want to hear that I made a mistake?" Severus and Hermione exchanged a glance. Telling the old Slytherin that he'd made a mistake would be suicide, even if it was obvious that he knew it already.

"No," came Minerva's voice, much quieter than previously. "I want you to take me to wherever you live and kiss me the way Severus is probably kissing Hermione right now." Hermione looked to the ground, blushing. Severus only grinned.

There was another moment of silence, and then came Warrington's voice again. "That was very brave. What if I say no?" Hermione winced, and Severus shook his head as they exchanged another glance.

"Well, I'm not a Gryffindor for nothing," Minerva replied, her voice still softer, as if she was, indeed, afraid he might turn her down.

"No, you have hundreds of traits that make you a Gryffindor, each one more loveable than the last," came his answer.

Hermione and Severus smiled happily at each other, knowing this to be as close as the old snake was likely to come to admitting that he loved Minerva McGonagall, at least until he was a little more sure of her affections. Severus tugged at her hand and pulled her across the room to his private quarters, knowing that their colleagues were occupied and likely wouldn't notice.

She waited patiently as he cleaned himself up, and ordered food from Dobby, who brought it just as Severus reappeared from the shower, drying his hair. He was pleased to see food, and said almost nothing until he'd eaten an entire plate full. Eventually they fell into conversation, first about the potion, then about Minerva and Warrington, and finally about Hermione's upcoming term at Geneva.

"I still haven't heard whether I'll be staying on campus for sure or not," she commented. "But the boys have already offered to help me pack twice, so I guess I'm moving out of the flat either way."

Severus looked at her strangely for a moment. "Not because of Potter's comment, I hope?"

"Oh no," she said, laughing. "We're over that. I think it's because Ron wants Luna to move in. Of course, no one's supposed to know they're dating. He wasn't ready to break the news to Harry that he's not actually gay."

Severus managed not to spray pumpkin juice all over the table, but it was a very near thing. "And why exactly does Potter think Weasley is gay?" He was unable to contain an undignified chuckle at this unexpected topic of conversation.

"Ron's been hanging out with Seamus Finnegan a lot," she began, "and Seamus told Harry he was gay years ago so Harry'd stop trying to set him up with Ginny, which he was only trying to do because he was tired of Ginny chasing him around, and – "

"Enough! If I wanted to rehash the gossip from Gryffindor tower, I'd go find Minerva." His voice was stern, but a smile was playing on his lips.

"I do believe she'd be difficult to track down just now," Hermione quipped, smiling as she put her napkin carefully over her plate. Dobby appeared an instant later and began clearing things away. When he'd gone again, they both rose, Severus stifling a yawn and looking vaguely embarrassed. She smiled up at him. "Go ahead and get some rest. You deserve it. I'll just make sure they cleared up before they left, and then I'll see you tomorrow."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What's on your agenda for tomorrow?" he asked. Now that the Wolfsbane was complete, there was really no reason for her to come back to the castle, unless –

"Nothing at all. I just want to see you before I have to spend all my time at Geneva, and the summer's half gone already. Do you have other plans?" She asked, her tone coy as she gazed up at him and took his hand again.

"I'm sure I can rearrange my schedule for such an important appointment," he answered quietly. And as he leaned down to kiss her, Hermione grinned inwardly, recognizing that he'd just said that spending the day with her was important to him.

She emerged from his chambers to find the potions classroom spotless, and shook her head at the sight of the half-opened door into the corridor. She closed it soundlessly behind her, and made her way to the apparation point. 'Yes,' she thought, letting herself into the flat as quietly as she could. 'I do believe I'm getting the hang of this.' She grinned and headed to bed, already preparing herself for the puzzles the next day's conversation would bring. In addition to the growing feeling that Severus cared for her more than he'd ever be likely to admit, she was pleased to realize that he would always, _always_ keep her thinking.


	10. Ch 9

**Chapter 9 of A Likely Story**

The remainder of the summer went by amiably, with both Severus and Hermione managing to avoid any weighty misunderstandings. They saw very little of Minerva, who'd elected quite suddenly to take a little holiday this year after all. And although she'd been a great deal of help to Severus, he had to admit he was grateful for a break from her advice.

With the help of the house elves and werewolves who'd joined the Order in the last few weeks, many Death Eaters were captured. Now that Severus' true loyalties were no longer in doubt, Fudge was forced to accept his testimony, making it much easier to convict them. Unfortunately this made it still more dangerous for him to be seen anywhere but Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place. The only remaining spy for the Order, whose name had yet to be revealed, had told Dumbledore that the price on Severus' head exceeded one third of the Malfoy family fortune. Naturally Albus forbade him to leave the castle for any reason.

As a result he was banging unhappily around the potions classroom while Hermione, helped by Harry, Ron and Luna, packed her belongings and took them to her dormitory at Geneva University. It was an exciting day, but she remembered to send Severus an owl as he'd requested, once she was safely ensconced in her new room. She unpacked quickly, but lingered as she hung her pictures on the walls. She was laughing quietly over the only picture she had of herself and Severus. His arm was around her, his hand resting on her elbow, rather than her waist, and he was stealing glances at her. The smile that came to his face in those moments was fleeting, and as soon as he turned back to the camera it became an ambiguous look of unconcern. She found that both infuriating and endearing.

She was startled out of her thoughts by an unexpected knock at the door. Setting the picture down hastily, she drew her wand. "Who is it?"

"It's Minerva, Hermione. I'm headed back to Hogwarts and – "

Hermione flung open the door, grinning as Minerva finished. " – I thought I'd see how you were settling in before I left." Hermione took a good look at her guest. The stern expression she was accustomed to seeing was gone, chased away by a look of contentment that seemed to have settled permanently over the older woman's features. There was a smile in her eyes that Hermione hadn't seen since Harry was made the Gryffindor seeker in their first year. She invited her in, and went to the kitchenette to make tea.

They chatted for quite some time about the dormitory. Hermione hadn't been sure that she would find a place on campus at all, and was amazed at the size of it. It was practically her own flat! The rooms were tiny, but there was a bedroom, a bathroom, the kitchenette (with only a bar, no room for a table), and a reception room big enough for a love seat and a bookshelf. It took only a few moments to drag the truth from Minerva – Warrington had pulled a few strings to get her this place. She'd have to remember to thank him.

"So how are things with you and Severus, then?" Minerva asked, perching herself carefully on a barstool. Hermione was a little concerned to notice that her green eyes were twinkling in a most familiar way. But this was her only girlfriend, really, if you didn't count Lavender and Parvati, who wouldn't have understood anyway.

"He's been very sweet recently. Really!" She added that last as a result of Minerva's skeptical expression. "When he says something nice without prompting, I've been rewarding him with kisses. Now he tells me I look pretty almost every time I see him. Well, unless I'm only wearing black robes for working in. Then he just raises an eyebrow and refrains from commenting. You've got to admit that even THAT is an improvement." They both laughed for a moment. Minerva got up to refill her teacup.

"So that's what muggle researchers call positive reinforcement, then?"

Hermione looked up, surprised. "Since when are you into muggle research?"

"I got an odd request a few years ago from an acquaintance in the field who found lab rats too expensive. He wanted me to transfigure rocks or something into white rats so he didn't have to buy them. He was doing some sort of test to get them to learn to press only the square buttons. Nothing happened when they pressed the round ones, but the square ones gave them cheese and the triangular ones gave them an electric shock."

Hermione shook her head. "Well, yes, I suppose it is a bit like that." Minerva laughed again, even more loudly, and Hermione chuckled as well. Neither one saw a scowling face disappear from the fireplace, but then, they hadn't noticed the green flames at all during their conversation. "But it's different as well," Hermione continued. "I mean, you only give the rat cheese to change its behavior, not because you enjoy giving the rat cheese."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, and Hermione rushed on, her cheeks tingeing a pretty pink. "I mean – I don't kiss him JUST to get him to be nice. I've found his sarcasm is actually funny – well, when it isn't aimed at me. And even when he isn't spouting compliments, he's always interesting to talk to. I – I've really grown to like him quite a lot," she finished quickly, her blush deepening. Minerva laughed again and assured her friend that she believed her. Indeed, she was glad that Hermione had discovered the positive aspects of Severus' personality for herself.

It was nearly dark by the time Minerva made her way back to the castle. Classes resumed in only two days, and she had much to prepare. It wasn't until Severus arrived at the welcome feast that she discovered that something was very wrong.

Severus Snape, in full professor persona, swept into the hall a scant minute before the first year students arrived, led this year by Professor Sprout. If he met anyone's eyes, Minerva didn't see it, and he certainly didn't look at her. They'd been friends for nearly 15 years, and he was acting like he had during Harry Potter's first year when the House Cup had been snatched from the Slytherins at the last moment. (He'd refused to speak to her that entire summer.)

Although his eyes never turned to Minerva, he was acutely aware of her scrutiny, and, if anything, it only angered him further. How DARE they compare him to a lab rat as though Hermione was just running some kind of sick experiment? '_Wonder what the greasy bat will do if I try THIS?' _he thought scathingly to himself, visions of hypodermic needles drifting before his eyes. He barely heard the Headmaster's speech. Not that it mattered. The daft old coot said the same thing every year. As quickly as he could, he retired to his quarters, warding his door with something extra to keep Minerva out. He just knew she would try to visit, having proved herself to be at least as meddlesome as Albus. And she would surely have ascertained that he was upset.

Upset wasn't the half of it. Three hours and half a bottle of fire whiskey later he realized that he hadn't eaten anything at dinner. He knew better than to summon a house elf. There was a good chance the sneaky old catwoman upstairs had already asked them to report on his situation to her. The only thing for it was to go to the Three Broomsticks. He was ever so slightly tipsy, and between that and his hunger, he managed to forget that he was confined to the castle. Of course, in his current emotional state, he might not have given a damn anyway. Or at least that's what he told himself much later as he stood in Albus' office, listening to the lecture he knew he deserved. No one had seen him, as it had been late, and for that he was thankful. With a full stomach, and the full use of his usually considerable faculties, he could see that he'd been very lucky, and so he weathered Albus' dire tone in silence, and excused himself when it was obvious that the Headmaster was finished with him.

Downtrodden, and no happier than he'd been before, he returned to the dungeon alone. The first two weeks of school were more miserable than any he recalled, even from his own school days. He avoided Minerva and ignored Hermione's letters. Oh, he read them. But then he carefully resealed them and left them laying on a corner of his desk, knowing that eventually Minerva would come prowling around and would see them. He'd decided, after Albus' rather impassioned scolding, that this was for the best anyway. He wasn't going to be an experiment in how to tame a Slytherin, and frankly his life was too dangerous just now for this sort of rigmarole anyway. He assuaged his pride by reminding himself of that last fact, repeating in his head that he wasn't going to pursue Hermione anymore for her own safety. He told himself it had nothing to do with the pain of overhearing her conversation with Minerva. Each day he would have himself nearly convinced by dinner. But after dinner when he walked past his desk and saw the growing pile of unanswered letters; when he passed through his sitting room where they'd danced, he had to admit that he was being delusional. Minerva finally caught him sitting in his office reading the latest letter from Hermione. She'd been busy getting settled in during her first week of term, but this weekend, she was planning to come to Hogwarts. He was trying to decide what he was going to say to her.

"I was starting to wonder if you were planning to keep office hours at all this year, Severus," Minerva commented as she appeared in the doorway. She wasn't smiling. He put down Hermione's letter, and passed a hand over his eyes.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Minerva was not fooled. "You can explain exactly what's got you angry with me, and why you aren't writing Hermione to start. After that, we can adjourn to your sitting room and you can pour me a gillywater and massage my feet as an apology." She couldn't keep a hint of a smile from crossing her face as he looked up.

Alright, so it was funny. A slight smile graced his features as well, though he did his best to prevent it. "Damn. She's ruined me as a spy, you know," he commented, standing. "All this smiling – " he trailed off with a weary sigh. "Come on then," he said, gathering Hermione's letters and motioning for Minerva to follow him.

For years he'd kept a stash of gillywater in his quarters for these occasions, and he found it now, pouring Minerva rather more to drink than she would have requested. "I heard the lab rat comment," he said without preamble. Minerva choked on her first sip and set the glass down as he poured himself a fire whiskey, emptying the bottle. She glared at him.

"And just how long were you listening?" she demanded angrily.

"Long enough to hear her agree with you." Minerva's anger dissipated as she recognized the defeated tone in his voice. "If she wanted to experiment couldn't she have dated someone like Goyle?" he asked, his eyes glued to the tabletop. "He'd have been too dense to realize or care that she was only – "

"SHE WASN'T _ONLY_ doing anything!" Minerva said angrily, cutting him off. "You didn't stay around for the parts you would have liked you great git! You didn't stay to hear that she _liked_ giving the rat his cheese!" As these words tumbled out of her mouth her eyes widened, but it was too late to take them back. "Oh BUGGER!" she said, standing and turning away.

"Oh bugger is right," said a dry voice from the doorway. They both turned to see Hermione leaning, arms crossed, against the doorframe. She didn't look pleased. "Now you've upset us both, Minerva. Why don't you go back upstairs."

Minerva looked from Hermione to Severus, who was once again staring at the table on which his half-empty glass still sat. "It seems the two of you have more in common than I'd originally thought. Good night. Try to be nice to one another." She swept past Hermione, who managed a half smile in response to Minerva's surprisingly good natured words. She waited for Severus to say something after the door closed, but he remained silent. Finally she spoke.

"Do you know what I thought we'd probably talk about tonight?" she asked quietly. Something in her voice seemed to indicate that she didn't want to be interrupted, so he waited for her to continue, giving no sign that he'd heard. "I thought I'd have to apologize for pestering you with letters. Victor always said I wrote far too many letters for anyone to have time to respond to them all." Again she waited for some indication that he was paying attention. He was playing the part of the petulant child to the hilt, and she was fast growing tired of it.

"I did NOT think," she began again, raising her voice a bit, "that we'd be discussing whether or not I enjoy kissing you. I rather thought it was understood that I wouldn't have continued after that first time if I didn't enjoy it."

'_Enjoying it and meaning it are two different things_,' Severus thought to himself, gritting his teeth in an effort to remain silent. Her patronizing tone was doing nothing for his temper, and he was positive that SHOWING her his temper at this stage in their relationship would do nothing for their future prospects.

Hermione pursed her lips as she waited. Still he said nothing. The minutes lengthened, but before he quite had time to wonder whether or not she was still there, she spoke again. "I could apologize for what you heard, but frankly you shouldn't have been listening, and I don't think you deserve an apology. Nothing we said was meant to be derogatory in the least. If it bothers you to know that I like it when you smile, and try to find ways to get you to do it more often, then I'm sorry for that." Her voice rose steadily as she continued.

"If it upsets you to know that I love hearing that you think I'm pretty, then I'm sorry for that, too. And if I've somehow OFFENDED you by wanting to kiss you when you've been sweet to me, then I'm VERY BLOODY SORRY. I'll try not to make the same mistake again!" This exclamation was punctuated with the slamming of his office door, and mourned by the rhythm of her footsteps, retreating up the stairway.

Whatever fury he'd been holding back seemed to dissipate like vapor around him, leaving him cold as he lowered his head into his hands. That could have gone better. Apparently she had no compunction about showing him HER temper already. Maybe he should have said something? Surely anything would have been better than this?


	11. Ch 10

**Chapter 10 of A Likely Story**

The time turner was getting to her again. Hermione lay in bed on the first Saturday night of her Christmas holiday, unable to sleep. She knew that right now, she was sitting in the library in Geneva, finishing a paper for her Arithmancy prerequisite class. But she was also here in bed at Grimmauld Place, unable to think of anything but the fact that Severus had opted out of yet another Order meeting with a lame excuse.

With three intended majors, and only a four year scholarship with which to complete them, she'd borrowed the bane of her third year from Minerva again. She'd loosened up on the rules a bit this time around. Now she was using it for extra sleep time and to attend Order meetings as well as just to make it to her additional classes. She had hoped somehow that the extra sleep would IMPROVE the experience. It didn't.

She turned over in bed and wrapped the covers even more tightly around her, stifling a sigh. Ginny was still occupying the other bed in this room, and she didn't want to wake her. The Burrow had been razed to the ground not two months previous. The Order's spy, whoever it was, had given Dumbledore warning, and under cover of darkness, Arthur and Charlie had made a trip back there to get whatever they could salvage without alerting Voldemort that they knew of the attack. Grimmauld Place had been their permanent dwelling ever since. It had been willed to Remus, who also lived there full time, and he was glad for the company, particularly as Christmas approached.

That was part of the reason Hermione had elected to spend the holidays at Order Headquarters. It would be her first Christmas without her parents, and she just didn't think she could make it through if she had to spend it alone in her dormitory. And yes, she had to admit that the other part of her reasoning was an unrealistic hope that she might see Severus. He had not bothered to contact her after what had happened at the beginning of term, and she had made a pointed effort not to contact him. She'd written him a few letters here and there, when she just HAD to express herself somehow, but she'd never sent them. They were in a shoebox at the top of her closet back at school, and that's where they would stay.

She wasn't sure when it had happened. What she WAS sure of was that somewhere between holding his hand at dinner that first night, and dancing in his sitting room near the end of the summer, she'd fallen in love. It had taken her a good long while to recognize it for what it was. Most of the last term, in fact. Tears trickled down her face as she thought of it. It had hit her suddenly – an epiphany, if you will – when the third boy asked her to go to a Christmastide Ball thrown by his fraternity. She'd turned him down just as she had the two before him, but it made her stop and think. Why DIDN'T she go with him? He was good looking. They'd had Ancient Runes classes together all term, and since that's such a difficult major, she knew he must be quite bright. The first two had both been nice boys as well. She told herself that she just didn't want to go to the Ball, but that wasn't true. She'd discovered the previous summer that she loved to dance. Or maybe all she'd learned was that she loved to dance with Severus. She caught a sob in her throat before it could escape. She was certain he'd forgotten all about her by now.

And in truth, Severus was faring a good deal better than Hermione was. Immersed in familiar surroundings, he fell back into the demented joy of tormenting first year Gryffindors, and making the Hufflepuff girls cry. It also helped that he'd already known how much he cared for her. Naturally he didn't call it love. Men like him don't 'fall in love.' That was for nancy boys like Neville Longbottom or Ernie McMillan. Regardless of what he called it, he'd known from the moment the door slammed that it was over, and he'd done his best to get on with things. He'd even gone so far as to forgive Minerva for her hand in it all, which he thought was very generous on his part.

On Christmas Eve, Ron offered to take Hermione to Diagon Alley if she wanted to do any shopping. Always the cad, he'd winked and nudged to indicate that he expected a present, so she'd grudgingly agreed to go along.

"Remind me again that this is supposed to be fun," Hermione intoned dryly as they walked into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"This is supposed to be fun," he responded dutifully, bringing a smile to her face in spite of her obvious bad mood. She waited patiently as Ron picked out a present for Harry. She'd gotten him something from Geneva's student bookstore, a very old book of hexes and counter hexes designed for self-defense. Things had been rather tense between her and Harry. She'd gotten only one owl from him during term. He'd been very careful not to ask about Severus, and when she responded, she'd been very careful not to tell him. And if she thought Ron would be any better, she was mistaken. He, like Harry, carefully avoided any mention of their former Potions Master.

She watched him as he selected something (she had no idea what it was, but was sure Harry would like it better than the book she'd gotten him), and took it to the counter to pay. He was behaving oddly today. First, pressuring her to go shopping, then telling jokes as if – here she paused in her thoughts – as if everything was okay. She almost groaned at her own idiocy. Everything WAS okay, as far as he was concerned. Miracle of miracles his entire family was still safe, even as the war statistics were going through the roof. It was Christmas, and his girlfriend had moved in with him when Hermione herself had moved out. Naturally he was acting like nothing was wrong.

"Ready, then?" he said, turning from the counter with his usual lop-sided grin. She linked her arm with his and they headed back out into the snow.

"Flourish and Blotts," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. Ron only laughed.

"So are you going to tell me ANYTHING about this new school of yours?" he asked as they walked, the snitch-covered bag swinging in his hand.

"It's harder than Hogwarts," she said after a moment of thought. "The classes are nearly all double period length, and you'd swear half the professors are descended from Binns." They laughed as he pushed open the door, and shook the snow out of his hair. "I'm trying to sleep more than I did third year, but it's not really working. I've got three sets of classes to attend, and keeping them all straight is a nightmare. I've got a huge chart in my dormitory that I cross them off on as I attend them. Of course, if I miss one, there's no detention to serve, so that's a blessing!" She said all this in a half-whisper, as no one was supposed to know that she had a time turner.

"Well, are you seeing anyone yet?" he asked carefully. He knew better than to come right out and ask about Snape– he'd learned that lesson with Krum.

"Who's got time?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, you do!" he quipped, making her roll her eyes. "What, you can't study and go on a date at once?" he whispered.

"No one can be in two places at once, Ron," she responded slyly, echoing an old conversation. Again they both laughed. It had been nearly an all-day shopping trip by the time they returned to Headquarters. Almost as soon as they reached the kitchen the door behind them opened again and Tonks entered, looking annoyed, which everyone found very odd.

"Think you could have taken any longer about that, Ron?" Tonks said irritably.

"I told you it'd be an all day trip!" he exclaimed defensively, and indeed, he had. Since the death of Hermione's parents, she'd been kept under watch, discreetly of course, by the Order. Ron had asked Tonks to trail them in Diagon Alley just in case. He'd only finished the first half of his Auror training, after all, and it just felt safer to have someone else along.

"Yes, well, you neglected to mention that I'd be spending the day with the world's biggest prat!" she spat vehemently. At this moment the front door banged closed yet again, and the portrait of Mrs. Black started screaming obscenities down the hallway.

"SILENCE, you obnoxious old hag, or I'll show you just how ugly I can make you without disobeying Albus' order not to destroy you," an angry voice snarled from the entryway. To everyone's surprise, the portrait fell silent. They heard the hangings slide forcibly shut, and a muttered charm before Severus Snape appeared in the kitchen.

Tonks shot Ron a disgusted look, as if this was somehow his fault, and brushed past Severus in a move that would have been elegant if anyone else had tried it. As it was, she nearly knocked him over. "Watch it, Nympho," he whispered cruelly. He'd been calling her that all day, and it was really rather fun. If he caught her off guard sometimes her hair would change color when her face grew red.

She rounded on him with her wand in her hand faster than he expected, but he'd already drawn his own. "We are not in public anymore, and if you want to keep that forked tongue of yours I suggest you keep it still," she said dangerously.

"And if you'd like to keep your swaying –

Ron was not so distracted by the argument that he didn't hear the swish of a wand from Hermione's side of the table. He ducked.

"ACCIO WANDS!" Hermione caught both their wands in one hand and shook her head. She knew exactly what was happening and she didn't approve. Tonks was looking ashamedly at the floor, but Severus was meeting her gaze evenly. "She's not Sirius," Hermione whispered, unaware that Harry had entered the room from the garden.

An angry light seemed to flare in Severus' eyes as Tonk's head snapped up and she looked at Hermione, understanding crossing her face like a ray of sunlight. "Look, Shacklebolt's waiting for me, I need to get back to the Ministry," she said after a moment, her voice quiet. Hermione tossed her wand back to her. To everyone's surprise, she put a hand on Severus' shoulder for a brief instant before making her escape.

"No, she's definitely not Sirius," Harry said coldly to Severus, gaining the attention of Ron and Hermione as well. "Sirius wouldn't have bothered forgiving such a worthless, bullying git. I felt bad about the way they treated you once, did you know that? But you're as cruel now as they ever were."

"Harry, let it go," Ron said quietly. Hermione was torn. Did she give Severus back his wand in case he needed to defend himself, or keep it to make sure he didn't attack Harry? She looked between them. When her eyes met Harry's she shook her head, and he looked away. Severus, however, returned her gaze as unflinchingly as always.

"I do believe that is the most mature thing you've ever said to me, Potter," he spat, not bothering to look at Harry at all. "You are absolutely correct." Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, forgetting, in his haste, that Hermione still had his wand.

As soon as the front door closed behind him, Hermione turned to Ron. "Have you learned how to trace an apparation signature yet?" she asked quickly. Thankfully he had, and after a quick trip outside, he was able to tell her that Severus had gone to Hogsmeade. Harry watched them in disapproving silence. "He's got to have his wand, Harry," she explained. She was gone before his comment that the world would shortly be a better place if he never got it back.

Severus stood at the gate and looked up at the castle. The Potter brat was right, he'd been nothing but cruel to Tonks today, and what's more he'd enjoyed it, right up until he was confronted with what Hermione would think of it all. THAT had not been enjoyable. Damn it! Why did he care anyway? Hadn't she made it clear that she didn't want anything more to do with him? Her opinion shouldn't even matter. He'd almost convinced himself that her opinion DIDN'T matter when she appeared beside him. She didn't smile.

"You forgot this," she said calmly, holding out his wand and hoping he couldn't see the tears already starting in her eyes. He took the wand from her without comment and put it in his pocket, studying her face in spite of himself.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said after a moment. His voice was a good deal more gentle than he'd intended and he scowled at himself.

"I'm not alone," she pointed out with what could have been a smile if she hadn't looked so sad. Severus wanted nothing more than to escape back to the castle at this moment, but she spoke again. "Thank you, for looking after us in Diagon Alley today," she said quickly.

He closed his eyes, a self-deprecating smile that he couldn't contain giving away his discomfort. Yes, of course she would have pieced together what he'd been up to. He looked at her again, as she was still talking. "I guess you know what I got you for Christmas, then." Her voice broke a little, but she continued. "Maybe I could stop by tomorrow, after I've had time to wrap it?" she asked. It was probably the single most difficult sentence she'd ever had to say, and her tongue felt like lead, but she knew he wasn't going to make the first move after the way they'd parted last. She waited silently for some answer.

He had noticed that she'd purchased a most interesting book on experimental potions in Flourish and Blotts, but he'd assumed it was something she'd needed for a class. It had only come out last week, and he hadn't bothered to ask anyone to pick it up for him. The idea that she'd bought it to give to him was both upsetting and – well, no, he wasn't going to allow himself to hope. He was sure she was only being friendly, as Gryffindors were wont to do now and again, even when they had no real desire to.

"Please?" she whispered, startling him out of his thoughts. He blinked at her twice.

"That would be satisfactory," he answered carefully, unwilling to give any indication of the huge swell of hope that had pulsed in his chest at the obvious pain in her voice. Perhaps he had given up too soon?


	12. Ch 11

**Chapter 11 of A Likely Story**

Nervous didn't begin to describe it. Hermione didn't bother trying to sleep on Christmas Eve, and to her surprise, neither did Remus or Charlie Weasley. Charlie had been one of the unfortunates in this war. He and a few other dragon handlers had come back to London to participate, among them his girlfriend of over a year. She'd been killed almost immediately, caught by a spell that wasn't even meant for her.

Hermione found the two men sitting in the kitchen, sipping tea in silence. She poured herself a cup and joined them. "Welcome to the first annual meeting of the Order support group," Remus quipped quietly. Charlie snorted forcefully, but Hermione smiled a little.

"So what if it is?" she asked. "I could use some support now and then."

Remus smiled at her and nodded, letting the silence close around them again. It was almost as comforting as the darkness and the tea. "I heard about today's little tussle," he began finally. "Sounds like you won."

"I don't think anybody won. Harry's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Australia, and Severus is desperately searching for someone to vent his frustration on now that Sirius is gone. He latched onto Tonks because they're related, I suppose," she finished quietly, aware that the loss of Sirius was Remus' reason for sitting awake tonight. But to her surprise, Remus only nodded again, looking neither perturbed, nor confused.

"I honestly expected him to use me for that, or maybe Harry. I was ready for it, and Harry was used to it, but Nymphadora…."

"She handled it well," Charlie rasped, his voice sounding oddly disused.

Hermione smiled at him. "I thought so, but Harry wasn't impressed."

They talked of many things. It wasn't until the clock's hand pointed to: 'You'll pass out with your nose in your tea if you don't get to sleep now,' that they trooped upstairs to bed, not necessarily feeling any better about the war, or the loss of their friends and family, but at least not feeling quite so alone in the world.

In the morning, Hermione found several presents at the foot of her bed, but didn't open them right away. Ginny was already digging through hers, looking for something specific. Hermione didn't ask. Ginny had been acting oddly lately – not interested in talking much about anything, which suited Hermione fine. She grinned to herself as she pulled the book she'd gotten for Severus out of her shopping bag and flipped through it.

When she arrived in the potions classroom, she entered without knocking. It was empty, so she walked through to his office, which was also empty. She drew the line, however, at simply walking into his personal space, so she knocked on the sitting room door, practically holding her breath.

The door opened almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting for her, which, indeed, he had been. He'd been pacing the sitting room almost since dawn, having not gotten much sleep himself. He'd thought literally all morning about what he would have to say to her today. When she'd entered and pulled off her cloak, he summoned a house elf. Dobby appeared promptly. "Lunch?" Severus inquired, his voice tense.

"Right away, Professor," Dobby squeaked, disappearing again. Severus took her cloak, inadvertently revealing the wrapped book she'd been hiding beneath it. When he'd set her cloak aside, she offered it to him.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said quietly, trying to smile. He took the gift, looking hard into her eyes as he thanked her.

"I sent yours ahead to Headquarters. I hope you don't mind. It would have been too large to carry." He was pleased that she looked flustered as she stuttered out a thank you. Maybe she'd thought he wouldn't get her anything. Truthfully, though (not that he'd ever tell her), he had ordered her gift the day he heard that she was spending the holiday at Grimmauld Place.

He desperately needed to know why she was here. But he knew he wasn't going to get that information by remaining silent. He was going to have to say his piece. Then, if he was luckier than usual, perhaps she would give him something to go on. It was a gamble, and he might very well come out of this conversation with no dignity left at all. Dobby brought lunch and set it out on the table, and Severus watched Hermione thank the elf and sit down. Then he turned and faced the bookcase, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. As if he could eat anything just now anyway!

Hermione watched him, even more nervous now than before he'd opened the door. He had gotten her a gift? That was unexpected. Maybe he'd been thinking of her after all. 'Or maybe,' she told herself sternly, 'he ordered it as soon as he got back to Hogwarts last night because he knew you'd bought something for him.' She'd learned from experience that she couldn't assume that she knew what was going on in his head. She was just about to invite him to sit down at his own table when he spoke, his voice unnecessarily harsh.

"If you are seeing someone, kindly tell me now before I make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have," he demanded, not bothering to turn towards her. He focused his eyes on the spine of a potions text that looked like its only purpose in life was to collect dust, and waited. She didn't say anything, but he heard the soft sound of fabric moving and guessed that she'd stood. Foreknowledge was the only reason he didn't jump when she took his hand and pulled to turn him around. She was smirking at him. He narrowed his eyes.

"You know perfectly well that I'm not seeing anyone. You've been getting information from Minerva all this time," she said, her eyes daring him to contradict her. From years of being a spy, he knew that when one thought he'd been found out the best thing he can do is hold his tongue. "She's the only one who was in the room when Ron and I decided to go shopping yesterday," Hermione explained. When he still said nothing, she added. "I'm not angry."

Severus released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. That was the first good news he'd had in months. "I apologize for listening to your conversation with Minerva," he said quickly, still studying her expression. To his chagrin, she looked vaguely amused.

"Have you thought all this time that that's why I was upset?" she asked, frowning suddenly. There was a hint of sadness in her voice, as if this was not at all what she'd been hoping for.

Severus took a moment to decide that there was no appropriate answer to that question. Instead he raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"You never even gave me a chance to explain. You heard something that upset you and just decided – I don't know – that it wasn't worth it? If you'd only told me what you heard from the beginning, I could have explained. We could have discussed it. Instead you just gave up." He listened to all this with a growing sense of worry. This was evidently an important issue to her. "I'm not even sure how to maintain a friendship under those conditions, much less –" she paused, "whatever it was we had," she whispered quickly, looking away.

Severus resisted the urge to swear in frustration. So did that mean she wanted to try and maintain whatever they had or not? He'd never been pushed quite this far out on the proverbial limb of emotion. Silence reigned for a moment before he decided to take just one more step. The virtual sound of protesting wood filled his ears, but he put a finger under her chin and forced her eyes back to his. "What we had was worth it. I should have spoken with you."

If the growing smile on her face was any indication, he'd finally said the right thing. Somehow this irked him a bit. "But that doesn't mean I want a long discussion about my 'hurt feelings,' he added harshly. He expected that to wipe the smile from her face, but instead she laughed aloud.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. Then, when her mirth had run its course, "I don't want to change who you are. I just want you to open up a little bit, so I can get to know you better." Any anger that he'd felt over being laughed at seemed to evaporate with this soft-spoken plea. She smiled at him again, adding, "But if I can get more kindness out of you with kisses, that's what I'm going to do," her tone playful again.

He was surprised to find that the scowl that comment brought to his face was a mockery of the one he usually wore. He was almost _amused_ by her reference to the lab rat comment. It was unheard of. He had to shut her up.

"I suppose I can live with that," he whispered, stepping closer and leaning down quickly to capture her lips before they had a chance to respond. When he finally pulled away, his heart beating faster than it had in months, it seemed that the topic of conversation had been long forgotten.

Hermione rested her head on his chest, still holding him tightly. His kisses were as sweet as she remembered. How odd that the same mouth that had spent all day yesterday tormenting Tonks could do to her what it did at times like these. She stifled a sigh, but he felt the hitch in her breathing.

"What is it?" he asked, craning his neck to look down at her without breaking their embrace.

"Tonks." Severus winced and lowered his head into her hair as she continued. "I don't imagine that she's ever been anything short of pleasant to you, has she?"

"Actually – " there were several instances of the auror's less than polite dealings with him, but as he thought about it, all of them had been brought on by his own nasty comments. "- no."

"I thought not. She's not like Sirius, who said cruel things just for the sake of saying them." If the irony of that statement registered with her, she gave no sign, but it hit Severus like a blow to the gut. That's exactly what he'd been doing to Tonks: calling her Nympho all day just because she'd blushed when Harry told her he liked her hair. That's what he'd done to most of his students in the last few months as well. The fact of the matter was: if anyone still living was like Sirius Black, it was Severus himself. He groaned audibly at this realization and burrowed his face still further into her hair.

Hermione, unsure of exactly what had happened, simply held him. It wasn't as if she expected him to apologize, but she hoped he'd ease up on Tonks a bit, at least. After all, she'd only recently lost her last remaining relative. She didn't need to be taunted continually in her grief. They passed several moments in silent comfort before Hermione pulled away.

"Molly's expecting me to help with Christmas dinner, so I should get back," she said apologetically. "We're eating around 7 if you'd like to join us," she added, her tone hopeful. She knew - well, everyone knew - that Severus didn't eat at Headquarters. But she couldn't help but hope.

"I don't think I'd better. I'm sure it would be just as awkward as Order meetings, with everyone hoping I'll leave soon so they can enjoy themselves." There was more bitterness in his voice than he would have liked. He wasn't looking for pity, after all.

Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment. "Do you know that Molly holds dinner until after you've left every meeting, no matter how late you stay? She knows you won't stay to eat, and doesn't want to make you feel like you have to leave before you're ready to."

This was a revelation, indeed, and Severus felt his eyes widen in spite of himself. He'd never been particularly friendly to Molly Weasley, so he was surprised to find that sort of consideration from her. In fact, he'd thought perhaps they'd stopped asking him to stay because they feared he'd eventually agree, and then they'd be stuck with him. He still thought his explanation more likely. Nevertheless, with only a little more cajoling, he agreed to attend, kissing her again soundly before she stepped through the green flames of his hearth and back to Grimmauld Place.

"Hermione!" A very excited Ginny Weasley met her on the stairs as she returned to her room, a little off balance after her time with Severus. "Come ON! You've just got to see what arrived for you after you left!" She pulled her into their room by her wrist.

A huge collection of plants with deep purple flowers shimmered in a large, heavy looking brass pot at the foot of her bed. They shimmered because each of them was disappearing for a minute or two. For each one that disappeared, one reappeared at almost exactly the same time, so that there were always enough visible ones to make a full bouquet. Ron and Harry were already staring at the plants.

"I don't believe it," Hermione said. When she dropped to her knees for a closer look the plants were taller than she was. "Vanishing Verintigi!" She grinned at the confused expressions on her friends' faces. "We used them about halfway through term in Potions this year, trying to develop a workable base for an invisibility potion."

"There's no such thing," Ron commented.

"Oh, that's the difference with Masters level classes, Ron, the point isn't to make what someone else already developed, it's to learn how to develop new potions on your own." Everyone looked suitably impressed, but Hermione didn't notice, as her attention was already back on the beautiful, delicate petals that seemed to wink in and out of existence in a complicated pattern. "Professor Warrington must have told him how much I liked them," she whispered.

At this, Harry rolled his eyes and left the room. Ginny waited until he was gone. "They're from Professor Snape, then?" Hermione shot Ron a look of accusation before answering. He'd obviously told Ginny all about it.

"Yes, he said he'd sent my present here because it was too big for me to carry back."

"I'll say!" Ginny exclaimed, looking at the monstrous pot. "It must weigh at least 35 kilograms!"

The flowers were all the talk in the kitchen as Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Molly (watched by Tonks, who was safely seated at the table) set about preparing dinner. Hermione knew how to cook with muggle equipment, but she'd never prepared a meal as a witch, so she watched carefully. It kept her mind successfully off of dinner itself, which might very well be an impending disaster. As the others filtered out of the kitchen, she mentioned to Molly that Severus was planning to attend, then retired back to her room to read for her Arithmancy classes next term.

Smiling grimly, Molly set out to make sure that Christmas dinner was not ruined. Quickly, with a curious gleam in her eye, she began making place cards to separate anyone who might cause trouble. It bothered her that her first thought was to place Harry as far from the Potions Master as possible. But that was certainly the first order of business.


	13. Ch 12

**Chapter 12 of A Likely Story**

To everyone's vast surprise, Christmas dinner went off without a hitch. Of course, Molly had told only Hermione about the calming charms she'd placed on Harry's chair, and her rather bold move in putting him beside Tonks, who Molly was sure had been looking sideways at him in recent weeks.

Hermione returned to her more-than-hectic class schedule feeling rejuvenated in a way she'd never expected. The first letter from Severus arrived on her second day back. She wrote back to him immediately. As the term wore on, she found that she wasn't nearly as tired as she'd been during first term. She shook her head at the realization, wondering how much of her fatigue had come from missing Severus. Writing to him regularly, and visiting at Hogwarts on the odd weekend meant more than even an expressive Gryffindor like herself was willing to admit just yet.

Towards the end of March, Hermione had several term papers coming due again. She suffered through the last weekend of the month in Geneva's vast library, trying to get them all done without having to turn back time. She laughed at herself a bit. By the time she finished college, she'd probably be Severus' age anyway, and Harry would have to just shut his trap.

Things with Harry had been bad. At the few Order meetings she'd managed to attend he'd been nothing short of disruptive, questioning nearly everything Severus said. Hermione regularly found herself spouting Potions class theories to him in Severus' defense, which didn't improve his attitude at all. In a letter from Ron, she'd heard that he had finally gotten around to asking Ginny out and had been told that she was seeing someone else and wasn't interested in Harry anymore. Hermione supposed that was a big part of his problem at the moment. She was thankful that letters from Harry were few and far between.

When she returned to her dormitory around 8:30 Monday morning, fully intending to turn back her entire weekend and sleep through Saturday and Sunday while she'd been in the library, she was distracted by the sight of Pig, rocketing around her dormitory. Several things were already broken. She was beyond tired and didn't have much patience for Ron's eccentric owl at the moment, so she snatched him out of the air to remove a short bit of parchment from his leg. Pig didn't mind, having been treated that way by Ron for years.

_Hermione –  
Potions accident. Come to Headquarters immediately.  
-Ron_

Hermione blinked twice at the words on the page. They seemed to swim together a bit. Then she swore and hurried through to her bedroom, rapidly packing an overnight bag. She decided to let Warrington know that she'd be gone after she had some more information to give him. Or perhaps Minerva had already owled him. If not, she could always ask her to do so later.

She arrived at Grimmauld Place in time to hear a rare thing. The Headmaster was bellowing.

"I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!"

"You'resacking me then?" she heard Severus respond, his voice dangerously quiet.

"If that is what it will take to keep you out of harm's way, then YES!"

Hermione decided this would be a good time to interrupt, and ran upstairs and into the bedroom they were occupying. She was much too upset to bother just now about what kind of attention Severus would or would not care for. She sat down gingerly beside where he lay and leaned over to run her fingers through his hair, trying to get an idea of just how much of him was bandaged under his thick cloak. The men had fallen silent at her entrance, though Severus was still glaring angrily at Albus, whose face had taken on a rather amused expression. "What's happened?" she asked worriedly. "Are you alright?" Then, when he turned his eyes to her, about to respond, she pulled her hand back out of his hair with a grimace she didn't think to hide. "And what's happened to your hair?"

She had apparently forgotten that the 'greasy git' comments had been thoroughly justified. He couldn't help but smirk at her. "If it hadn't been for the flame repellent grease, my hair would have caught fire and my whole face would have been burned, rather than just my neck and shoulder and hands. Isn't that right, Headmaster?" He turned his eyes back to Albus, and Hermione was surprised to see that they both looked amused.

"Indeed, we are all glad that you put safety above vanity, Severus," Albus answered solemnly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"You mean all these years you've put that stuff in your hair on _purpose_?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose. Both men laughed out loud.

"Indeed, Miss Granger, and he used to insist that all his students did so as well. I believe it stemmed from a rather – er – explosive Gryffindor/Slytherin potions lesson in his youth. Unfortunately not everyone is as disinterested in their appearance as Severus, and with all the complaints, I had to make him relax the rules."

Severus was scowling again, but it seemed half-hearted to Hermione, who ran her fingers through his hair again anyway, making his expression soften even further. "What happened?" she asked again.

As the story unfolded, Hermione found herself growing more and more angry. Nathaniel Travers, a fourth year Slytherin whose father was a death eater, had determined that the bounty on Severus' head was worth being expelled for. He'd purposely blown up his cauldron while Severus was inspecting it. He hadn't counted on the Gryffindors in the room, along with most of the others in his own house, dousing the Professor with the correct chemical powder to suppress the magical flames. It seemed they HAD been paying attention to his lecture, after all. Severus revealed to her later that part of the reason he was so adamant to return to his classes was to ensure that each of those who'd remembered the correct procedure would be given full marks.

But Albus was hearing none of it. For all intents and purposes, Severus Snape was now out of a job. He was no longer a spy. He was no longer a professor. And he found himself, as Sirius had been before him, confined to the depressing ancestral home of a dark family as old as his own. He consoled himself primarily with the thought that at least it was not Snape Manor. Oh, and one other thing made it a bit better for him than it had been for Sirius. Hermione had been granted special permission from Warrington, who'd not hesitated to blackmail his colleagues into letting him be her staff advisor, to skip a few weeks of classes to stay with him. (As usual, she was so far ahead that it made little difference.) As he could barely turn his head or sit up without help, he was very appreciative, not that he had any intention of saying so.

Three days after she moved back into Grimmauld Place, word came by way of their anonymous spy that Travers was dead. No one bothered to question Albus on how exactly it had come to pass, and he offered no explanation.

Each morning, Hermione arrived in Severus' room with fresh bandages, dropped off by Madam Pomfrey the night before. The first day, he was startled, and quickly rearranged his coverings, pulling them up to his chin as she blushed and grinned. "I thought I was the modest one!" she teased gently. "You're going to have to lower those so I can put the burn compound and new bandages on, you know."

Severus scowled convincingly. He'd been picking at the tape to remove the bandages himself when she'd entered. He had no desire for Hermione to see the extent of his burns. Frankly it was humiliating that she felt it necessary to take time off school to 'take care' of him. Conscious of their discussion about disclosure, he told her so.

"And Albus thinks you aren't vain!" was her only response as she gently pulled the covers down to his navel. She fought hard not to dwell on the sight of his exposed chest. It was, after all, the most she'd ever seen of him.

She kept the air of a consummate professional as she applied the numbing and healing potions to his burns, massaging them into his neck and shoulder with feather-light touches. Madam Pomfrey had warned her not to press too hard. So long as the skin didn't shift, he was expected to heal with minimal scarring. That complete, she reapplied the bandages and moved on to his hands. For this he was grateful, as the sensation of her touch at the edges of his wounds was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"Now how did you get these off?" she asked. The bandages on his hands had been removed completely. He'd thrown them to the floor on the other side of the bed where no one would see them, not realizing that he was going to be watched quite so carefully. He didn't answer as she took first his left hand, then his right, and gently applied the potions to them as well. He watched her the entire time in silence. When she was finally satisfied that he wouldn't feel any discomfort until it was time for tomorrow's treatment, she wrapped his hands again. "They were a bit useless the way Poppy wrapped them. How's that?" she asked, holding up his bandaged hand, which was much less bulky than it had been the day before. At least now he'd be able to hold a book. With practice he might even be able to turn the pages. He looked away in disgust as she finished with his other hand.

"You're not talking again. Are you upset with me?" she observed shrewdly, inwardly wondering why they couldn't get along as well in person as they had in letters the last few months.

"No. Only frustrated. I do not deserve all this." He gestured helplessly with a bandaged hand, his eyes still averted. After all that he had done in his lifetime, he had never hoped for the kind of gentle attention she was giving him. Hermione regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before responding.

"Life isn't about what we do or do not deserve. It's about what we can do for those we care about. I can do this for you. I hope you'll let me." Severus looked at her for a long time, his lips parted to speak. In the end he found nothing to say. The topic was never mentioned between them again.

That's not to say, however, that Severus didn't struggle with it. Harry Potter made sure of that. It seemed he had also come to the conclusion that Severus was not worthy of such attention. While Hermione busied herself in the kitchen with Molly, he went out of his way to stop by and point out to Severus his newfound uselessness to the Order. Severus found that he could ignore the comments so long as he kept his mind focused on the sensation of Hermione's hands running over his shoulder. Naturally he never mentioned the taunting to Hermione. Eventually Harry would get bored with his lack of response, and leave.

This strategy worked really well for about the first week, until Hermione, bringing Severus his lunch, overheard a particularly nasty exchange. "Enough, Potter. I am not so useless that I cannot lift my wand, and this time you've overstepped your bounds."

"Frankly Snape, you aren't scary, laying there like one of Hagrid's flobberworms caught by a stray engorgement charm. And it's not like I'm wrong. Doesn't it irk your pride at all to have Hermione _feed_ you? She could be spending the time researching spells for the Order, or practicing hexes so she can defend herself – you know she'll insist on fighting when the time comes. You're not only useless, you're a burden on everyone else as well." As he spoke, Harry took several steps into the room, unaware that Hermione entered behind him, a rare look of fury on her face. She set the tray down on the nearest desk silently, then slammed the door behind her with enough force to knock a mirror off the wall. It shattered loudly. Harry had already turned, wand in hand. He lowered it when he saw it was Hermione – his second mistake of the day. He was silenced instantly. She watched his lips move with a smirk on her face.

"You've said quite enough already. You might as well put your wand away. It'll be useless now." Already beyond rational thought, she forgot what Ron had written to her about Harry's resiliency when it came to hexes these days. While she tried to come up with the words to explain her anger, the hex wore off, long before it might have on anyone else. By the time she was ready to speak, tears of frustration were pouring down her face. Severus, upset that she'd had to hear Harry's accusations, which he privately thought were true, kept his silence with difficulty.

"How could you say those things, Harry? Wasn't it you who thought Severus was so awful for saying exactly the same things to Sirius? Wasn't it you who laid the blame at his feet when Sirius left the house and was killed? If you know that's what comes of those taunts – "

"I know exactly what comes of them," Harry said coldly. "As soon as he's out of bed, I hope he DOES go. I hope he goes right back to Hogwarts and gets his head taken off by an exploding cauldron!"

Hermione's tears stopped abruptly and she looked at Harry as though she'd never seen him before. There was a long silence before her voice came in a harsh whisper, as though it was the only way to contain her anger. "If you really mean that Harry Potter, then you are no one I want to be friends with anymore."

Harry's lower lip trembled visibly as the realization of what had just happened sank in. He hadn't meant it. He really hadn't. He'd only said it because he felt like Severus ought to know what he'd put Sirius through by acting that way. Obviously he'd gone too far. His eyes locked on Hermione, and he never noticed the confused expression on Severus' face as he tried to grasp the idea of a Hermione who wasn't friends with Harry Potter. But her tone had been definitive.

Finally, Harry dropped his head, a huge tear rolling down his cheek that Severus knew wasn't affected. "I don't mean it," he said at last, wiping at his face viciously. "I just wanted – I only thought he ought to know what it felt like –" Then, after another long pause, "I didn't mean it," he whispered. A moment later he was gone from the room, and they heard his bedroom door slam and lock forcefully. It was several minutes before Hermione could tear her eyes from the empty doorway. When she did, she picked up Severus' tray and brought it to him. He'd long since been able to feed himself, thanks to the thinner bandages he now wore, but she seated herself beside him anyway, not sure what she could say to dispel the despair that seemed to permeate the room.


	14. Ch 13

**Chapter 13 of A Likely Story**

In the end, it wasn't anything she said that brought Severus out of the nasty mood Harry had unwittingly cursed him with. On the final day of her hiatus from school, she arrived in his room to take care of his bandages. He'd barely spoken since Harry's outburst, conversing with Harry only once, when he'd come to apologize. It had been fairly convincing, and Severus found himself telling the boy he understood. When the door had closed behind him, Hermione had resumed her massage of his shoulder, now almost entirely healed, before leaning over the bed to kiss him. It occurred to him that this was his cheese, but he shook the thought from his head and kissed her back greedily. If all it took was accepting an apology from Potter, he decided that he was still getting a bargain.

Hermione finished her first year at the top of her class in all three of her majors, as everyone had expected, and in spite of a two week lapse in studying. She was issued no fewer than four invitations for summer internships, all of which she politely declined. There were several unpleasant things that needed doing this summer, and she couldn't put them off any longer. She spent a week in France, delivering a photo album, which Moody had salvaged from her parents' ruined home, to her aunt and cousins. She looked in on her father's side of the family also: Two uncles and a Grandmother whom she had not seen since before she started Hogwarts. She took them several important items as well. The garage had been untouched, and her father's cherry apple red Corvette had been in storage all this time. She knew her Uncle Gerald should have it.

But the worst occasion she was faced with was the unexpected one. News from the Order's spy had come concerning a possible breach in security at the Ministry that Voldemort would be sure to take advantage of. Moody, Tonks and Arthur were taking turns working late in their offices, making periodic trips past the office in question. It happened on Moody's watch.

He called for backup, and nearly everyone at Order Headquarters responded, with only Severus and Molly staying behind. Ginny and Hermione were the first to find him, and by then the Death Eaters had vanished. They both gasped and turned away from the sight of him, each shielding her eyes with the other's shoulder. He was lying at an odd angle in a puddle of something that looked too thick to be just blood.

From a corridor nearby they heard someone swear, then a whisper. "You weren't supposed to see that. I'm sorry." Ginny let go of Hermione instantly and whirled on the spot. But there was nothing to see. Behind them they heard Arthur, Mundungus and Bill, and called to them, keeping their eyes averted as the men shrouded the body for transport back to Headquarters. The funeral was by far the most difficult part of the summer, and Hermione was glad to get back to school in September.

She was excited because now that her prerequisites were out of the way, she'd be completing her potions mastery this year, with help from Minerva's time turner. Aside from her continuing correspondence with Severus, there was a single other bright spot waiting to reveal itself at Geneva.

"VICTOR?" Hermione called, straining her neck to look across the cafeteria. Sure enough the boy turned, a smile breaking over his face as he hurried toward her.

"Herm-own-ine! I'd heard you were going to school here, but I didn't think I'd find you so quickly! How've you been?" Hermione grinned as he mispronounced her name yet again, and began to tell him a very edited version of her life for the past year and a half. They'd sort of lost touch after she'd graduated, which was mostly her fault, and she apologized for it. He waved it off good-naturedly.

She asked him what brought him to Geneva, and he managed to get halfway through the story of a run in with two bludgers before a group of nearby girls realized who he must be. "Here we go again," Hermione whispered as they approached.

"Oh no! Look, we'll catch up later, okay?" he said quickly, trying to stand before they could get to him. Hermione shook her head and laughed. He made it about three paces before he was surrounded. Some things never changed. She remembered when they'd first met, in the library at Hogwarts.

_"You aren't really impressed with me, are you?"  
he'd asked, parking himself in the chair in front of her. _

"I saw you at the World Cup. You flew well," she  
answered noncommittally. She kept her nose firmly  
in her book.

"But you do not chase me like these others, why?"  
he asked, gesturing to the giggling girls who'd just  
entered.

Hermione threw her book to the table in  
exasperation. "Honestly! How's anyone supposed  
to work with all that going on! Just sign their book  
bags, will you, and leave so I can study!" she huffed.  
He looked offended for a moment, then chuckled quietly.

"I wish I could find someone for this damned Yule  
ball who wouldn't spend the whole night acting like  
that." The girls were now peeping at him from  
behind a bookcase. He rolled his eyes.

"Good luck," she'd responded, picking up her book  
again firmly to let him know that they were done talking.  
And from then on, he'd been in the library all the  
time, waiting for another chance to ask her.

She knew he'd asked her because she was the only girl in the school who wasn't behaving like a starving puppy everytime he entered the room, but she hadn't minded. Even if they would obviously never _date_, she'd made a good friend that year. She grinned to herself, watching as the groupie girls led him away. It would be nice to have a friend on campus. She certainly hadn't had time to make any last year!

Severus, out of a job, and feeling less himself with each passing moment, dominated Albus' time for half a day, convincing him that Geneva was safe, and he ought to be allowed to visit Hermione and Warrington. He appeared, unannounced, in her dormitory one evening, anxious to see her, since it had been nearly a month. Unfortunately she was not present. Then, when he'd found a butterbeer in the refrigerator and a book to read, she appeared in front of him, tucking her time turner back into her robes. She looked startled for only a moment before she let out an excited laugh and threw herself into his arms. He only just had time to set down the butterbeer. He kissed her lingeringly, conscious of her hands trailing down his back.

"Albus is going to drag you home by your ear," she said quietly when he pulled away. "And if Warrington finds out you're in my dorm, there'll REALLY be hell to pay." The aged professor had seemingly taken it upon himself to be sure that Severus was treating her right. He kept her behind after nearly every class, on the pretense of asking after Minerva. But she knew what he was really after. Of course, she couldn't know it, but in Warrington's opinion, Severus should have been visiting her dormitory long before now.

"They are both aware of my present location," he offered with a smirk, running a hand through her hair. When his fingers got stuck at the nape of her neck, he left them there, making an odd tingle run down her spine. She lifted her lips to his again, all thoughts of the essay she'd come back in time to write flying out of her head.

"How long can you stay?" she asked breathlessly. She got no response, as, instead of pulling away when the kiss ended, Severus had lowered his head to her neck, nuzzling underneath her hair and trailing kisses down to her collarbone. It was an activity he'd taken up over the summer that she found both relaxing and tantalizing. She noticed that today he was trying for tantalizing as his other hand dropped from her waist to a lower position. He was just congratulating himself on his good fortune when she pushed him away, gently but insistently.

"Why don't we sit down?" She sounded nervous and he narrowed his eyes at her momentarily before taking her hand and leading her to the very short couch that served as the only seating in the room. It wasn't that he was trying to seduce her, really. Only that it had a been a month since they'd done more than write letters, and he wanted nothing but to hold her and kiss her. When he leaned toward her again, she stopped him with a firm hand on his cheek.

Hermione kept him at arm's length for a moment, so that when she removed her hand he'd stay there. He seemed to understand her intent if not her reasoning, and made no further move to kiss her. "What is it?" he asked, worry suddenly flooding his thoughts. Hermione, however, was thinking fast about how she could word this without sounding like an absolute prude. Most importantly, she didn't want him to be reminded of Harry's original conjecture on his intentions.

After a tense moment of silence, she decided on, "We're already beyond my limited experience." It sounded to her mind like something a Slytherin would say. Sure enough, when she got up the nerve to meet his gaze he was looking at her with understanding that didn't quite cover up the desire in his eyes.

"I didn't realize," he responded carefully, weighing his options. He had not expected a girl with almost as many male friends as she had IQ points (which was really saying something) to have left Hogwarts a virgin. He thought about it a moment before he decided that he really had no options. Perhaps his hand on her rear had offended her. "Would you like me to go?" he asked, his voice betraying his despondency more than he would have liked. He scolded himself mentally. He'd been a spy for years. Now he couldn't even hide his own self-loathing from a Gryffindor!

"No, of course not!" she exclaimed immediately. When he looked up at her, his eyes full of hope, she stuttered, "I just – I wanted you to know, so you wouldn't expect – because I'm really just not ready to – "

He put two fingers quickly over her lips, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his own. It seemed he couldn't help but showcase his emotions for all to see these days. There was a slight pang of regret at that, but he brushed it away. If he wanted her to love him, he would have to show her who he was. They'd agreed on that. "I don't expect," he whispered, "but I can't tell you I don't want."

In answer she grasped his hand in her own, bringing his palm to her lips to kiss. "I can't say that I don't want either," she responded in true Slytherin style. "But I'm not ready yet." They spent the rest of the evening talking of other things, and when the time came for him to return to Headquarters, she kissed him passionately, making sure he knew that she wasn't rejecting him. She got her point across quite well, and he went home happier than he'd been since his burns had healed.

He wasn't able to visit every weekend, being occupied in the new lab Albus had helped him set up in the basement of Grimmauld Place. He found that he felt quite at home there, as it really was as much a dungeon as his lab at Hogwarts. Sadly enough, it had probably seen more of traditional dungeon usage. He spent his time producing an anti-venom for Nagini's poison, and stocking up on the antidotes for the poisons he'd once made for the Dark Lord. When he did visit, he couldn't help but be impressed by the quantity of information Hermione seemed to be absorbing. She'd elected, after her first year, to concentrate on only one major at a time, so she was taking three levels of potions classes at once. And in addition to discussing her classes, she frequently asked him about the articles he'd begun to publish in the last few months, which meant she was reading most of the current periodicals as well as her textbooks. There was little doubt that she would be one of the foremost research Potions Masters of her generation.

In mid-December he was summoned to the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. This request came as something of a surprise, since Albus had been careful to keep him out of the castle since the incident with Travers. When he arrived, he was concerned to see the Headmaster seated at his desk looking remarkably old as his eyes followed a pacing man in unmistakable Death Eater robes.

"Albus? Draco? What's happened?" he asked immediately. Draco Malfoy, more agitated than Severus had ever seen him, spun on the spot and came forward to shake his hand.

"Uncle. There's been a – Well, we have a problem." Draco looked to the Headmaster for confirmation. The old man looked away, his face full of what Severus could only interpret as self-disgust. He raised an eyebrow and turned back to Draco.

"On the Headmaster's last trip to the ministry, someone slipped him veritaserum in the form of a lemon drop. I think Grimmauld Place has been compromised. It would be wise to move everyone out of there, or else cast another fidelius charm."

"You THINK?" Severus asked quietly.

"The Dark Lord is jubilant. He showed us the lemon drops. I came immediately and Professor Dumbledore was able to confirm that someone had offered him one. That's all he remembers, which seems to indicate a memory charm." Draco looked contrite. Gathering information wasn't easy, but he was anxious to prove that he could do it as well as Severus had. Particularly when speaking to the man himself.

Severus swore vehemently. "We've got to alert the Weasleys and Lupin. They'll need to – "

"That has been accomplished already, Severus," the Headmaster said quietly. "Voldemort is under the impression that he can attack at his leisure. He will wait until Harry is present, I think, to attempt it. Naturally Harry has already been told not to return to Headquarters." His voice sounded ancient, suddenly. "Our next order of business is to get you ensconced safely at Snape Manor. I assume the family house elves have cared for the place in your absence?"

Blinking twice, Severus sank into a chair. "I can't go back there," he whispered, oblivious to Draco's sympathetic glance. He'd told the Headmaster the same thing about Malfoy Manor not two years previous. There were just too many memories.

"I'm afraid it is the only option. We've got a family in Surrey who've agreed to house Remus, and the Weasleys will be moving in with Neville Longbottom and his Grandmother. Their home is large enough to accommodate the whole family."

"I can't go to Longbottom's either," Severus snapped in mock anger. He expected some glimmer of humor from Albus for that, but got nothing but a long-suffering sigh.

"Naturally," he replied wearily.

Severus spent the next hour hurriedly packing up his laboratory. As soon as he was finished, though it was nearly 11:00pm, he flooed Hermione to let her know what was going on.

In her dormitory, the flames went green, and Severus' head appeared. It was dark, as he'd expected. He'd just made up his mind to step through and look for her in her bedroom, reasoning that this was important enough to wake her up for, when he heard it.

His eyes focused on the loveseat across the room, and he saw the silhouette of an unmistakable face. Krum. Krum's current activity was unmistakable as well, as the girl beneath him moaned contentedly. Severus couldn't see her, but he didn't need to. He pulled his head back out of the fireplace, trying to contain his fury. They could discuss it in the morning. Because this time, he wasn't going to silently back away. Oh no. If she wanted to know how he felt, he was bloody well going to tell her.

It was nearly half an hour later when Hermione arrived in the Headmaster's office, having been summoned to address the issue of the information leak. Draco was long gone, his identity still being carefully guarded. He, Albus, and Severus had all been grateful that no one had asked Albus if he had another spy. But the incident only solidified their belief that the fewer people who knew, the better.

"I've discussed it with Severus, and I think it would be best if he went to Snape Manor under a fidelius charm. It would make sense for you to be his secret keeper, since Geneva is so well protected," Albus began without preamble. Hermione set down the huge bag of books she'd brought with her. The school owl had found her in the library, and she'd apparated directly to Hogsmeade.

She didn't hesitate to agree to be his secret keeper, and Albus gave her instructions on how to apparate onto the grounds of Severus' family estate. She promised to be there first thing in the morning, yawning unashamedly in the middle of her sentence, which made Albus laugh for the first time all day.

"Go home, get some sleep. Once the charm is performed, please check in with me to be sure I cannot remember where he is." He never mentioned to her that part of the reason it was necessary was his own fault. He didn't want to know, so that if he made the mistake again, he couldn't cause any more difficulty.

She headed home gratefully, using his floo. She tip-toed to her room, knowing that Victor was probably already asleep. She grinned to herself, thinking of his now-uninhabitable dorm room across campus.

Four days previous, several seniors, in a fit of rebellion against end of term tests, had set off a string of strategically placed dungbombs. It was a prank worthy of the twins, and the entire third floor of Victor's dormitory had to be fumigated. She'd agreed to let him crash with her, with the stipulation that there were to be no groupie girls invading her dorm.

Her grin faded as she passed the couch and glanced at his sleeping form. He wasn't alone. 'Ick!' was the first thought that came to her mind. She shook her head and went to bed anyway. She could deal with it in the morning.


	15. Ch 14

**Chapter 14 of A Likely Story**

"Good Morning."

Hermione made her way into the kitchen for some morning tea. "Hi!" she responded brightly, grinning at Victor, who was perched on a stool, a hot mug already grasped in his hands. He was still shirtless, but Hermione had noticed on her way through the sitting room that there was no sign of whichever bimbo he'd brought home last night. Before he could say anything else, she thought she'd better let him know that she'd be gone for the weekend.

"Where're you going?" he asked when she'd finished explaining.

"Order business," she answered quietly. On one of the rare occasions when they'd both turned up in the cafeteria for the same meal, she'd told him, in whispers, about her involvement in the Order of the Phoenix. He'd been rather ambivalent on the subject, and they'd rarely discussed it since. Now he simply nodded.

When her tea was finished, she went back to her room, packed a bag, and tossed it over her shoulder. "See you Monday, if your room's not back in order by then," she said casually, making her way towards the fireplace. She intended to stop by Ron's flat before she left, and she wasn't sure the wards would let her apparate through anymore.

"Alright. Be careful," he replied. She figured he was already congratulating himself on fooling her.

"Thanks, I will. Oh, and Victor? You're buying me a new couch. Take this one with you when you go back to your own dormitory." She wrinkled her nose at him and he winced and swallowed hard.

"Right. Bye then."

"Bye." She was gone in a spurt of green flames and he shook his head. He should have known better. Still, she'd taken it more calmly than he'd expected, and he could certainly afford to get her a new couch.

After a quick talk with Ron and Luna, Hermione apparated to the location Albus had given her, completely unaware of what was awaiting her. Severus was watching from an upstairs window as she made her way across the grounds. His house was NOT friendly to muggleborns, and despite his assurances to the Headmaster, he'd done nothing to make it so in the 8 hours since he'd arrived.

Naturally the doorknocker, in the shape of a serpent, bit her the moment she touched it, sinking its marble fangs all the way through her hand. She cried out and hexed the thing to dust, unwittingly contaminating the wound, and making it sting even more. At the sound of her cry, Severus wrenched the door open, his face as cold and unexpressive as it had ever been. She looked up at him, tears springing to her eyes.

"Couldn't you have told it I was coming?" she hissed, brushing past him angrily. She tossed her bag to the floor and took out a shirt she'd packed, wrapping her hand tightly to stop the bleeding. A house elf appeared and cleaned the blood off the floor, though it made no move to help her. It didn't even acknowledge her presence.

"Yes, I could have," he answered dangerously, his eyes narrowed as he let the door fall heavily shut behind her.

"What's gotten into you!" she demanded, standing abruptly. Everything about him exuded danger. She hadn't been this afraid of him since her first year at Hogwarts.

"That's not the question, my dear," he said, venom dripping from his voice. "The question is what, or who, has gotten into YOU?" He took her roughly by the elbow and propelled her into the next room, guiding her towards a chair. But she wasn't about to be landed in another unknown situation. She pulled her arm violently from his grasp.

"Thank you, I'll stand!" she spat angrily. "For all I know, that chair might eat me! Now what are you talking about?"

He laughed bitterly. "Too smart for that, but not smart enough to close off your floo connection when you're otherwise involved," he mocked.

"I only leave it open when I'm at the library in case _you_ come by!" she retorted swiftly.

The first fleck of doubt crept into Severus' mind. What if he'd been wrong? What if it hadn't been Hermione with Krum? He changed tactics swiftly. "Why don't you tell me about Victor Krum?" he asked, his voice low and challenging as he held her gaze.

Understanding swept over her like a wave, and she swore, not that the look in her eyes wasn't enough to convince him that he'd been right. Before she could answer, he turned away from her, his anger suddenly shifting to a hurt he knew he couldn't keep from registering on his face. "That wasn't me. I found them when I got home from talking to Albus last night." He didn't turn to face her, and she stood for a moment, indecisive, cradling her injured hand. "His dormitory is being fumigated. They expected it would only take a week or two, so I told him he could sleep on my couch."

"Where in that explanation is the reason for not mentioning him to me?" Even if it wasn't her, it could easily have been, if the boy was living with her. Then it hit him. Naturally she wouldn't have thought anything of living with Krum for two weeks. She'd spent an entire summer living with Ron and Harry. She'd been surrounded by boys all her life. He closed his eyes and wondered if his temper had just ruined everything. Of course it wasn't her. She wouldn't have –

"Honestly, it wasn't important enough to mention," she whispered, breaking into his thoughts. Cautiously, she put a hand on his arm. Still he didn't turn. Tears were spilling down her cheeks now. "I would never – "

He turned suddenly and she stepped back in haste, afraid he might not believe her. But he took two strides toward her and caught her in a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. They held each other in silence for several minutes, until the pain in her hand overcame her relief. "Help me with this, please?" she whispered. He pulled away reluctantly and she offered him her hand. He summoned a house elf.

"Get me Lupso," he demanded. The elf disappeared and an instant later was replaced by another, older elf. "The doorknocker, Lupso," Severus said quietly, indicating Hermione's hand. Without a word, the elf healed her wound, then, to their amusement, cleaned the blood-soaked shirt and offered it back to her, neatly folded.

"Thank you," she whispered, a slight smile springing to her lips in spite of the situation. Lupso bobbed once and cast a look at Severus, who nodded. Looking pleased with himself, the elf disappeared. Hermione thanked Severus as well. For a moment he didn't respond.

"Lupso was the only elf brave enough to tend my wounds, against Father's orders," he said thoughtfully. "If you need anything, call for him rather than one of the others." He turned from her again, then seemed to rethink. "Don't venture into the rest of the house. It is still wild. I'll clear the hallway and your room and come back for you shortly."

"Shouldn't we perform the charm immediately?" she asked, before he could turn away again.

Severus was beside himself. Here they stood in the midst of a house that was designed to make sport of people like Hermione, a house that he'd already allowed to harm her, purely for spite, and she was still offering to protect him. For a moment the words stuck in his throat. In the end, all he could choke out was, "shortly." Then he turned and went about the business of what he should have done last night. He disenchanted several dangerous dark arts artifacts, took down the most obnoxious paintings, and, with Lupso's help, cleared her room of anything that might hurt her.

"See to it that she has no interaction with the other elves," he told Lupso sternly. "And transplant the Vanishing Verintigi in the greenhouse into several pots to decorate this room."

As was his way, the elf simply nodded and disappeared to begin his task. He would also ensure that the other elves knew to make no rude comments about muggleborns. It was the least he could do. After all, he knew now for whom his master had requested the flowers the first time. He determined that he would do all he could to make the girl feel welcome.

Returning to the parlor, Severus found Hermione standing, just as she had been when he left her. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she wiped hastily at her face, unwilling to let him see her crying. He looked at her for a moment. He had no idea how to tell her he was sorry for accusing her, for hurting her. His mind flickered over bits of advice from Minerva, and even Warrington. Nothing of use. Sadly, to his mind, it was Harry Potter's apology that offered the best guide. He gritted his teeth as he came to stand before her. Improvising a bit, he took her newly healing hand.

"I wish I could make you understand how I felt when I saw them, thinking that it was you with him. Forgive me. I could think of nothing but my anger." He kissed her hand gently and left it at his lips, taking heart from the fact that she let him.

"I've never given you any reason to think I would do that to you," she responded softly.

"No. And if I'd been able to think at all, I would have seen that."

She looked up into his eyes, knowing she'd already forgiven him, but not sure how to convey that to him. It seemed her hesitation was more than he could take, and he leaned toward her, hoping to capture her lips, which were already parted as she tried to form the right words. "Please," he whispered, just before their lips met.

They held each other tightly, each trying to show the other something that they hadn't yet managed to admit with words. Finally, when both felt reassured, the charm was performed.

"Albus wanted me to check in with him when this was completed," Hermione said nervously. The last thing she wanted was to leave just now. However, she was loathe to spend the night in this place, as she'd originally planned.

For his part, Severus didn't want her to leave at all, but he knew she still had end of term exams to take, and Albus certainly deserved to be kept informed. "Will you take this to him?" he asked, gathering a piece of parchment and writing a quick note to remind the Headmaster that when the battle began he expected to be informed.

"I'll be back as soon as the Christmas Holiday begins," she said, kissing him softly.

Hermione took the note to Albus, and then flooed to her dormitory to find Victor sitting on the couch with a girl Hermione didn't recognize. It certainly wasn't the same groupie as last time. But her giggle was just as annoying as the rest. His eyes widened worriedly when she appeared in the flames.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't encourage them if you don't want to be chased around, Victor," she said slyly. Then she shut herself in her bedroom. When she emerged half an hour later, Victor, his groupie, and Hermione's couch were all gone. There was a note on the floor letting her know when the new furniture would be delivered. She grinned, then grabbed a notebook and quill and headed for Professor Warrington's office.

"Professor?" she asked, a moment before she opened the door. She grinned at the flutter of movement.

"I don't have office hours just now!" he exclaimed, before he realized who'd entered. This was true. His office hours had ended nearly four minutes before her arrival. She was pretty sure from the blush on Minerva's face that there'd been someone sitting on his lap much longer than just four minutes. If there'd been any doubt, then his unwillingness to stand to greet her would certainly have alleviated it. Thankfully they both started laughing when they saw that it was only her.

"I just came to ask you a quick question," she said, still laughing. "I was wondering if there were any computers on campus linked to the internet."

Warrington looked at her strangely for a moment. "I'm guessing those are muggle terms. You'd have to see the muggle studies professor."

Telling them in no uncertain terms that they had to behave themselves, and getting a good laugh from both of them, she bid them goodbye and hurried to the next building. The professor was pleased with her interest (by now all the professors were hoping she'd give up one of her chosen majors to study with them instead), and showed her to the internet facility: A single computer with a magically enhanced DSL connection. It was literally instantaneous.

When she was alone in the lab, Hermione quickly typed in a URL she'd seen her older cousin looking at once, and a tasteful, pink and white web site appeared before her. She browsed through the items and chose what she wanted. When she began to enter the purchasing information, she was pleased to notice a small icon near the bottom, where credit card information was supposed to go. It was an image of two crossed wands. She clicked it and a prompt came up to enter a Gringotts vault number. Grinning, she entered her own vault number, then put in the address of her dormitory. She hadn't truly expected it to be that easy.

Two days later she arrived in her room after an exam to find a package and a small white owl. She paid him for the delivery with three sickles, as the site had indicated that she should do, and opened the package. Satisfied, she placed her purchase in her trunk. Only two more tests and she'd be able to join Severus for the Christmas holiday.


	16. Ch 15

**Chapter 15 of A Likely Story**

When she first arrived back at Snape Manor she caught her breath in shock. A path had been made in the snow from the apparation point to the front door, and that was the least of the differences. Snow had been removed from the roof, and every window was lit with a pale candle. As she approached the door, she noticed that the bushes on either side, which had been so unkempt as to warrant ignoring on her first visit, were now carefully pruned into perfect spirals, tapering to points at their tops. The door was an entirely different color, and a new doorknocker, a phoenix of gray marble, had been installed. Nevertheless, she wrapped with her knuckles on the door itself, just in case.

Lupso opened the door immediately and ushered her inside in his usual silence. She thanked him before he could disappear with her bag up to the room Severus had prepared. She looked around.

The hallway, which she'd barely seen last time in all the excitement, was lit with wall sconces. Here and there a portrait was quite obviously missing, but the ones that remained were stunning as they chatted demurely amongst themselves, looking as though they'd been freshly cleaned. The floor, as well, shone in the candlelight.

From the stairs, Severus watched anxiously as she took in the improvements he'd made to his parents' home. Even in his childhood, it had never looked like this. He didn't know if it EVER had, to be honest. Certainly to him, it had seemed that Snape Manor must always have been the dark, desolate place he'd grown up in. Now, however, as he watched her eyes roam the walls, newly repaired in some places, he felt a stirring of pride. Perhaps it would not be so bad to stay here after all, especially if she would be staying as well.

As she ventured into the parlor she'd seen before, he went downstairs to join her. He stood in the doorway as she noticed the freshly cleaned rugs, their colors only slightly faded. What they lacked in coloration they made up for in softness.

A fire blazed in the grate, which had been dark before. That had been a difficult cleaning job, requiring all three elves. The entire chimney had been blocked. The chandelier, twinkling above her, had been lowered and thoroughly cleaned as well. The thought of her return had driven him to even get his own hands dirty, dusting beside his elves, and helping them with the obnoxious critters which had taken up residence in other parts of the house. It had taken them the entire week and a half of her absence, but the house was now entirely safe, with the exception of the dungeons, which even Severus did not feel comfortable entering.

As she ran her hand over the arm of the chair, he spoke. "It was safe," he said quietly. "I kept that much of my mind."

She turned, not surprised by his presence in the least, which he thought odd, until he remembered the mirror over the mantle. He wondered briefly if she'd watched him mooning over her like a schoolboy the whole time.

"Yes, I see the other one is gone," she said quietly, gesturing towards a table that one of the elves had moved down from the library to fill the space of the missing chair. He nodded. The atmosphere was entirely too tense for his liking. He'd already apologized, after all. What was left? Why hadn't things gone back to the way they were between them before?

He got his answers as Hermione came towards him. "Severus, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about Victor. I should have realized something like that might happen. I mean, I'd specifically told him 'no groupies,' but I should have known – " she left off as he began to laugh at her quietly. Apparently she thought she owed him an apology as well.

"You were not at fault," he assured her, noticing the distressed look on her face. He ran the back of his hand over her cheek and she closed her eyes. "Come, dinner should be ready shortly." He took her hand and led her into another room. Along one side was a huge table, meant to seat nearly 20 people. It was clean, but bare. They passed it by and he pulled out a chair for her at a much smaller table near one of the tall windows that lined the room.

As they ate, she told him about her exams, Victor and the new couch, and anything else she could think of. He listened, thinking back to how jealous he'd been of her easy conversation with Warrington when they'd attended the convention together. He had that now. Unbidden, a slight smile took up residence on his face and wouldn't leave. He nodded at the right times, and made the appropriate comments, all the while fingering an item of jewelry that had been sitting in his pocket for the last two days.

It had been his mother's, though whether his father had bought it for her or not, he didn't know. As he'd been cleaning, he'd come across the ring and matching necklace in a deserted room. They'd been housed in a small velvet pouch and thrust into the bottom of a chest of drawers. The clothing had long since been moth-eaten, and he had the elves dispose of everything else in the dresser. Then he'd wrapped the necklace to give to Hermione for Christmas. But the ring he kept with him.

He'd decided the previous year, as she tended his burns, that she was the one he wanted to marry. He'd waited a long time to find someone he could converse with as an equal, someone with enough spirit to stand up to him and enough compassion to care for a person as cantankerous as he. Now that he'd found her, and risked losing her more times than he was comfortable with, he wanted to ensure that she would never leave. The difficulty was in finding the right way to ask.

Hermione continued to tell him about school. Her Potions Mastery was halfway complete, but she wouldn't see her grades from this term until she'd returned to Geneva after the holidays. She talked as much to distract herself as to occupy him. Ordering lingerie online was all well and good, but now that she was here, where she'd have to wear it, she was becoming increasingly nervous. After they'd finished dessert, served silently and taken away silently by Lupso, she decided abruptly that she wasn't wearing the lingerie that night. Unbeknownst to her, Severus decided he wasn't giving her the ring that night as well. Neither quite understood why the tension between them simply faded away, but they were both grateful for it.

They spent the rest of the evening, and most of the next day in the Manor's library. Severus and the elves had cleaned it, but it was still full of dangerous books about dark magic. The entire room was a 'Restricted Section,' which only seemed to feed Hermione's curiosity. He stayed close to her, in case she should open a book she couldn't handle.

They settled into a routine of a late breakfast, and a daily walk through the greenhouse, which Hermione loved. In addition to the Vanishing Verintigi, there were many other rare and beautiful plants. Severus explained that he used the greenhouses to cultivate most of what could be found in his private stores at Hogwarts. They shared a smile, both thinking that she was familiar enough with his private stores to need no further explanation.

They spent the evenings in the library, where Hermione had instructed Lupso in setting up an evergreen and gathering decorations for it. Severus had brought an old rug, which he'd found rolled and stored in the attic the previous week, and spread it before the fireplace, and beside the Christmas tree. By Christmas Eve nearly every cushion in the Manor had made its way to that carpet, and they sat in the midst of them, laughing over the single box which resided under the tree.

"I've been under strict orders not to leave campus," Hermione explained, trying to swallow her nervousness. The time had come to share the gift she'd bought with him, but she was having a difficult time deciding what to say. "All I could get you from the campus bookstore was another book, and I got you that last year."

Severus nodded in understanding. He had not expected her to give him anything. Truthfully, he hadn't expected to have anything worthy to give to her either, until he'd come across the jewelry. He knew that even if he'd looked all year, he wouldn't have found anything better. Still, he was finding it more of a challenge than usual to steer the conversation in his favor. He kept his eyes on her as she continued.

"But I got the idea to order it from the muggle internet. I was glad it arrived in time for me to bring it along." She bit her lip, unsure of how to continue.

Now Severus was truly puzzled, as she had not placed anything under the tree. The only package was her necklace. He very much wanted to give her the ring first, however, which is why he'd decided to do it tonight. She had fallen silent, so he took his chance and began.

"Hermione, I've been thinking a great deal about our relationship lately." This introduction brought her head snapping up to his. He could see the beginnings of panic in her eyes, and continued quickly. "I realized that it was unfair of me to be so possessive of you when I had yet to make my intentions clear." He paused for a moment, turning his eyes away to get his bearings. Then he reached out and took her hand. "I think we've reached a point in our time together that requires a deeper commitment – no, requires isn't the right word. We've reached a point that _deserves_ a deeper commitment. Even if you say no now, nothing has to change." He fell silent and waited, reminding himself to breathe.

Hermione wasn't exactly sure what to say, as she wasn't exactly sure what _he'd_ just said. Her mind, focused as it was on the soft material that whispered against her skin under her robes, couldn't quite grasp what he was talking about. In fact, all she could concentrate on, really, was the decision to which she'd come regarding their physical relationship. Naturally, as her mind replayed his last words, she came to the conclusion that he was referring to sex.

"I've been thinking about that as well," she said, swallowing hard. This wasn't at all how she'd imagined it. She'd hoped that as they sat together on the rug this evening she could simply kiss him and let him find his way to the lingerie she wore on his own. She certainly hadn't envisioned the oddly formal discussion in which she found herself. Nevertheless, she was a Gryffindor, and she was not going to shy away.

Severus was taken aback by the news that she'd been thinking about marriage as well. Surely she would have mentioned it to him, if that had been the case? Had she been waiting for him to get around to it all this time? She looked rather unhappy. Perhaps she'd been hoping he WOULDN'T propose? A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and he wondered if it wouldn't be a good idea to discreetly summon a house elf to interrupt them.

"I've got to admit this isn't what I expected," Hermione said suddenly. "I mean, if you wanted to sleep with me, couldn't you just have - I don't know - started kissing me or something?" As soon as she'd fallen silent, she looked chagrinned. "I'm sorry," she said defeatedly. "Look, I just – "

"Wait a minute," he said, finding his voice with difficulty. "You think I'm asking you to have sex with me?" At her confused nod, he started to laugh.

She stood indignantly. "Well, for your information, it's hard to think of anything else just now with this ridiculous thing on!" she huffed, pulling her robes suddenly over her head to reveal a gown made entirely of loosely knotted black lace. Her breasts strained against the halter style top, seemingly less concealed than they'd been as she'd tried the garnment on in her room the night before.

Severus stopped laughing instantly, his lips parting in surprise. Hermione, tapping into her inner predator, knew at once that she was in control of the situation again. She took a step towards him and he was on his feet a moment later. His eyes traveled over her, lingering anywhere that the lace was sparse. It took quite a while for him to find her eyes again. By the time he did so, she was extremely uncomfortable.

"And for your information, it's difficult for me to think of much besides this ring in my pocket, though I must admit you're easily the best distraction yet." He raised it slowly for her to see as Hermione's face turned a lovely shade of scarlet. He wanted very much to run his hands over that lace, and everything that was under it, but first he wanted to see his ring on her finger. He didn't have long to wait.


	17. Ch 16

**Chapter 16 of A Likely Story**

Hermione was very pleased that Geneva students got a week longer for their Christmas holiday than Hogwarts students did. It meant she could stay at Snape Manor an extra 5 days before she had to be back to begin classes again. She found herself fiddling with her engagement ring almost continually, a habit Severus seemed to find extremely amusing. It was hard to keep track of the days. She thought it'd been only four days since Christmas, but she wasn't entirely sure.

Sex had been interesting. Of course, she'd known it was going to hurt, she just hadn't realized that anyone could make it feel so good before that point. He'd been more attentive and gentle than Lavender's first had been, and Parvati's as well. (She'd had the misfortune of being their roommate when they were deflowered. There was no escaping the intimate details.)

Severus had found it interesting as well. He understood, now, how she could have mistaken his desire for commitment as a proposition. Though he was certainly more experienced than she, he'd never felt the emotional connection with his other partners as he had with her. He'd never looked at sex as a commitment before this week. It had been an eye-opening experience.

He found that it was not so urgent, anymore, that they spend every moment together. That, he supposed, was due to the engagement. It was a relief, in some ways, that he could work on his antidotes while she read without feeling as if he was neglecting her. It made the time that they did spend together still more important to him. He was also pleased that she was making herself at home in the Manor. In only a few days, she'd gone from feeling like a guest to being the undisputed Mistress of the household, and no one was happier about it than Severus. In spite of the many unpleasant memories this house held for him, it was beginning to feel like a home for the first time in his lifetime. He smiled to himself, grinding more tadpole tails distractedly, and imagining that Hermione was on her way to tell him he'd been in the lab long enough.

But Hermione was not on her way to the lab. Instead she sat in the library, holding a book that she was sure was very informative, and daydreaming about the previous several evenings' activities, when she heard the unmistakable sound of a door slamming. Knowing that Severus had retreated to his potions laboratory, she went downstairs herself to investigate.

What she saw when she arrived nearly made her scream. Instead, remembering herself just in time, she drew her wand and advanced. How a death eater had found his way to them, she didn't know, but he was absolutely not going to get past her.

There were two very good reasons why she needn't have bothered to defend herself. The first was that the man was curled on the floor, just inside the doorway, pressing hard on a gash in his forehead with one hand as he grasped his injured leg with the other. As she approached him, he whispered hoarsely. "Lupso? Lupso, help me!" An instant later, the elf appeared.

Wordlessly, Lupso healed the young man in several places before pulling his mask aside to look at the cut on his forehead. This time Hermione did gasp, getting the attention of both of them. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Her wand, which had dropped slightly, rose again and pointed unwaveringly in his direction. He winced.

"Looking for help," he admitted grudgingly. "Though if I'd known _you_ were here, I'd have tried the Longbottoms'."

"What do you know about the Longbottoms?" She demanded, stepping closer. All the while, Lupso continued his ministrations, offering neither protection to Draco, nor explanation to Hermione.

"Everything. It was my information that sent you all out of Headquarters," he whispered. "OUCH!" He swatted angrily at Lupso, who bobbed his head in contrition, his ears drooping a bit.

"**_You're_** our spy?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't really care if you believe me, but I need to get to Hogwarts as quickly as I can. I wasn't in any condition to apparate, so I used the emergency portkey Uncle Severus gave me when I was young. Lupso's always been able to fix me up before. As soon as I can walk, I'm gone, alright?" He winced again as Lupso moved his dislocated knee back into place. Hermione couldn't help but be impressed that he wasn't screaming, all things considered.

"What message do you need to get to Dumbledore?" she asked.

"The Dark Lord is on his way," Draco answered quietly. "Hogwarts is empty of students, for the most part, and if no one shows up to protect it, it will be empty for a long time to come. If he takes over the school, it'll be nearly impossible to kill him. The place is just too well protected. Potter needs to be waiting for him tonight."

If nothing else had convinced Hermione that Draco was telling the truth, the sound of Harry's name, spoken without the usual contempt, finally did it. "Lupso, go get Severus. I'll finish with Draco's leg."

The elf blinked at her for a moment before disappearing. Draco just looked at her in shock. "He's here?"

"Yes," she answered shortly, her eyes dropping to his leg. She cast a quick charm to make sure it had been correctly repositioned, then a spell to knit the torn muscles and ligaments that accompanied that kind of injury, followed by a spell to block the pain.

"Thanks," he whispered, his surprise over her sudden acceptance of him overriding his usual ungrateful demeanor. She smiled at him. A moment later, Severus appeared with Lupso, demanding explanations.

It seemed like only moments later when they headed to the apparation point, single file through the path in the snow. Hermione was grateful that Severus had made no argument about her coming along. He understood that if everyone important to her was fighting, she had to fight as well. Very little was said between them until they were nearly outside the Manor's apparation wards. Then Severus stopped abruptly and turned to Hermione as Draco continued on, oblivious. "Whatever happens tonight, I'm coming back here," he said, his voice quiet, but intense.

"Then so will I," she responded, a bitter smile playing around the corners of her lips. He looked deeply into her eyes for another moment before taking her hand. They hurried to catch up with Draco and disappeared from the dark path with a resounding CRACK.

FIN

* * *

_AN: Now, before you hang me, let me just say that there is an epilogue posted on ashwinder . sycophanthex. It is posted there because if I tried to post it here, they'd ban me from uploading and that would suck. ashwinder is an adult-only archive, so please don't bother looking for it if you aren't over 17. It would make me feel guilty for writing it, and I hate to feel guilty. Okay, now you can yell at me._

_But when you're all finished with that, feel free to take a look at the many other stories I have posted here. Hermione does not feature prominently, but I do have an original character that I hope you'll think worthy of Severus' affection (such as it is). The stories are all numbered, so start with 0, and pay attention to the halves and quarters!_


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